


Switched In Love

by GREATSHOW



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: 1060s, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Angst and Feels, Arranged Marriage, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Falling In Love, Genderbending, Pseudo-History, Pseudoscience, Romance, Secret Identity, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-05-20 06:23:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GREATSHOW/pseuds/GREATSHOW
Summary: Lady Kara Danvers Zor-El couldn't have predicted that her hot-headed twin brother would have put her in the position to where she must not only assume his identity but his marriage as well. But he had, all while leaving for so-called urgent business. All Kara knew was that the marriage was to strengthen their lands. And  without much experience with women, and having a feeling that the bride she would soon meet would be nothing more than an overwhelming burden, she only hoped it was worth it.Lady Lena Luthor was not attracted to men. Nor was she fond of them. So it bordered on unforgivable that her father, Lionel, Earl of Northumbria, had guilt-tripped her into marrying none other than the rumored sexual knave himself — Kieran, Earl of Wessex —  to unite their distressed earldom. But as she mentally prepared to find some common ground with "Kieran," fate ensured that she would find commonalities with Kara instead.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Some may know that this story was originally written for the Cara/Kahlan "Legend of the Seeker" fandom. I never finished it (only making it to three chapters), and I've always regretted that. A few months back, one of my readers from that fandom asked if I would ever finish that story. I said that the way I could see myself doing so (since I'm no longer passionate about that pairing, although I still love it) is if I convert this story for the Kara and Lena fandom, continue the story that way, and then use that version to complete the previous version (with name changes and such, of course). So that's what I'm doing now. The previous version is currently hidden as to not spoil new readers and because I intend to make changes to it. This version is somewhat different from the original version. Historical aspects are more aligned with history, but there are historical changes to fit in the characters; for example, Zor-El is Godwin, Earl of Wessex, but not exactly. Kieran is Harold Godwinson; but, again, not exactly. There exists elaborate castles and palaces in the story, but Anglo-Saxon architecture was not as elaborate. Deferring to Anglo-Saxon terminology is not easy; so some words that probably weren't used back then are used, but Anglo-Saxon terms also appear. The non Anglo-Saxon naming aspect is addressed a bit with Kara and Kieran, but other non Anglo-Saxon names are just something to ignore. I chose "Zor-El" as the surname instead of "Danvers" because it's more ruler-like and because the origin of the "Danvers" name doesn't mesh with the Anglo-Saxon origins. With the previous incarnation of this story, a magical tone fit better; but even with that one, I kept it tame and as something not easily attributed to magic. With this new version, it's more about science, although suspension of disbelief is needed when it comes to the potion (brew) aspect. The story originally used present tense because it's the tense I mainly used back then (in 2012), but I decided to change it. You can find me on Tumblr at [greatshow1.tumblr.com](https://greatshow1.tumblr.com/). 

* * *

 

 

 

 

March 1065

 

The sun began to set on the Zor-El palace, pouring an orange tint through the massive windows, the sky encompassing an otherwise blend of pink and blue hues contrasting its neighboring clouds. The sight was enough to make one appreciative of life. Appreciative of any and everything taken for granted.

But to 22-year-old Kara Danvers Zor-El, it was an irritant, an inescapable annoyance, as she stood frowning in a palace room being fitted into clothing she had no business wearing. Her brother's closest friend, Baron Lar "Mon-El" Gand, leaned against a table a few feet away with noted humor. But every once in a while, his dark blue eyes betrayed him and it was clear that he too was worried.

They both knew what was going on outside that room: In the wide hall, servants worked the huge hearth to warm the wedding guests who eagerly awaited the expensive and elaborate meal ordered by Lord Kieran Zor-El for the nuptial celebration. Cloth symbols signifying the nobles adorned some of the walls. Four long tables harbored strewn vines and roses on their sides, large bowls of fruit topping off their centers. The floor was sprinkled with tiny white flower petals.

Winslow "Winn" Schott, a 30-year-old man who'd been in the service of the Zor-Els for as long as Kara could remember, stood before her. He was of average height and build. And he had not one particular job, but a variety of them, always eager to take them on and often thinking of his services as integral to the Zor-El name. Although many called him "the one with the magical hands," given his ability to make anything possible with enough effort, he always insisted that his ideas and contraptions were the result of science. Kara wasn't sure what to make of either assertion, but as he breathed in front of her wrapping her breasts from chest to back with flexible, cohesive bandage material, she could only conclude that she was on the receiving end of one his fevered efforts now. 

"We have to hide my breasts too?" she scowled.

"You think you can pass for a man even with your bosom protruding near your neckline?" Winn dragged a hand through his short black hair before returning to his task.

"It's ridiculous either way!" Kara yelled. "Why don't you just wait until Kieran gets back and then go on with the wedding?"

"Because," Mon-El said, standing to his full height, "your brother will be out on urgent business for at least three months, and this wedding must take place now if it is to help the alliance between the earldoms of Wessex and Northumbria. We've been over this."

"But why does it have to be me? And could you at least bring me something from the kitchen? I'm starving."

"You're always starving," Mon-El said. "And is there anyone else who can pass for Kieran Zor-El?" He arched an eyebrow, tucking a finger into his belt.

"Lord Kieran," Kara reminded him. "He prefers to be called Lord Kieran."

"You're twins, Kara. Almost identical. That's my point. Stop being such a dalcop."

Kara sent him a death glare, pushing Winn off to pull on her black trousers. He'd finished bogging down her breasts a minute ago. "I can dress myself," she said, sneering.

"There's a reason your brother is called the prettiest man in all the land," Mon-El continued, rubbing his beard. "Get this through your thick head: Other than height, a difference in anatomy, and that tiny dent in your forehead, you two are indistinguishable." He looked her over. "He's taller, but the boots, which add two to three inches of height, should take care of that."

"It also helps that your bride and her father have never seen Kieran in person," Winn chimed in, raising a finger. "And that King Edward the Confessor will not be attending."

"But I am Lady Kara!" She yanked on her white tunic.

Mon-El smirked. "Face it, Lady Kara. You were the best option. It's also why I never bedded you. Couldn't risk seeing Kieran while having you under me."

"You," Kara scoffed, violently straightening the sleeves of her tunic, "never bedded me because I am not some whore keen on her sibling's allies."

"I must have been mistaken." Mon-El's smirk deepened. "That must have been some other twin I saw with the stable boy the other night." He bowed elegantly.

"M-must have been," Kara stuttered and shrugged with a pout.

Winn exchanged a humorous look with Mon-El.

"And besides..." Kara nodded. "I'm Kieran now and I say Kieran doesn't befriend stable boys."

Mon-El and Winn burst into laughter.

Kara continued to make herself presentable, frowning the whole time. Sure, she wasn't some virginal princess, but did they always have to make fun of her for it? Her brother, as well as other men, got to bed as many women as they wanted, and no one ever thought twice about it. But if a woman were to do the same with men? Then she was a whore. Nothing better than a fustilug. And her reputation was indefinitely ruined.

To Kara's great luck, Winn and a couple of other trusted servants would always cover her tracks when she sought out the stable boy. The night Mon-El had caught her, she was being careless. Kieran had put a ready stop to that, scolding her about shaming the family name.

Kieran had inherited the title of Earl upon their father's death. Having been well-respected and loved, as well as more popular than most rulers, Zor-El had been a dear friend to King Cnut. As father to Kieran and Kara, children he and his wife Alura had birthed in their 30s, he had been loving and patient. And when he governed territories, he hadn't been much different, holding himself together even upon the death of Alura and speaking of a time when man no longer had to be be enemies to one another. Even his children's first names weren't traditional, picked to signify changing times and the welcoming of different cultures. He'd given Kara the middle name "Danvers," after a kind family he'd met in Norfolk had treated his wounds following a battle. Perhaps this grace and belief in a better world is what won him the respect of the people. Either way, Cnut saw it as a strength.

Their country had long been comprised of several kingdoms. By the eighth century, four kingdoms remained. Those had been East Anglia, Mercia, Northumbria, and Wessex. After the unification of England, in the early 10th century by Æthelstan, the kingdoms were essentially one. But King Cnut somewhat revived the four kingdoms by dividing England into earldoms in 1017. Cnut died in 1035. Edward the Confessor became king in 1042. After Zor-El's death in 1053, Kieran succeeded to the earldom of Wessex; Zor-El's closest friends were given East Anglia, Mercia, and Northumbria. And of those earldoms, only two — Wessex and Northumbria — had been at odds. The Northumbrians had disliked the earl who'd been given Northumbria upon Zor-El's death. His behavior had been harsh, and so he was expelled to an exile in Flanders, and subsequently fell out with Kieran, who supported the king's line in backing the Northumbrians. Having initially overlooked an older friend to Zor-El, a man by the name of Lionel Luthor, the Luthor family was chosen as the new face of Northumbria. 

Edward the Confessor had been wary of a man with such an odd surname; "Luthor" was foreign and didn't remind him of any surname he'd ever encountered before. But he'd declared something needed to be done in order to assuage the Northumbrians' unease about a new earl, or else they'd be their own country's downfall. Adamant, he'd contacted Lionel in the hopes of achieving some semblance of peace. Both men had suggested marriage. And seeing as the women of their land were never forced into such, it had been entirely left up to Lionel's daughter whether or not to pursue the undertaking. When she'd said yes, and considering that Edward the Confessor himself was already married, he'd entrusted Lord Kieran with the task. Edward had said it was most important, especially now with Normans attempting to conquer their territories and many of his people feeling that he was far too sympathetic toward them. He'd spent a significant portion of his life among Normans, and had subsequently brought a number of them into his English administration, which had created considerable resentment toward them.

There was no doubt in Kara's mind that the supposed urgent business Kieran was now involved in had to do with the Normans. It was a point he'd brought up to Kara the night he'd learned of her indiscretion with the stable boy. "The Normans might soon be slaughtering our men, and this is how you represent the family legacy?" he'd said.

In all honesty, even if a woman were seen talking alone with a man at certain times of night, she was rumored to be his lover. And with the way Kara had been kissing the stable hand when Mon-El happened upon them, it was safe to say that had it been anyone other than a trusted ally bearing witness, the earldom would have had a scandal with which to indulge for sometime. Kieran had told her, "You'd be better off bedding women instead. At least then, if seen socializing with someone at suspicious times of the night, no one would be the wiser."

Little had he known, Kara had considered just that, long before any prompting. But even she, with her knowledge and skill at achieving certain bodily responses, had only bedded one male, and she'd never gotten very far with women. A little kissing here and there, touching of the bosom and backside, but nothing she'd ever term "lovemaking." Every time she'd had the chance, she'd held back. Not because she wanted to, but because pleasuring a man was all she knew. What she was used to. What she'd been taught was the _right way_. Bedding a woman seemed more dangerous. More unholy somehow. And now, if she was to uphold the Zor-El name, it might as well be with some respect, if only a little. This meant no more sexual visits to the hired help, and certainly no sexual entanglements with women. She found it odd, however, that she and Kieran had different perspectives on what her bedding women would impart to the family name.

"You're both forgetting something... My voice," she said, coming back to the moment to pull on her boots. "Kieran doesn't exactly sound like an innocent school girl."

"Neither do you." Mon-El smiled. "But Winn has something for that."

"There's this brew," Winn said, moving toward Kara and pulling an object out of his formal attire. "It will allow your voice to deepen enough so that you sound male, and will also add a bit of muscle tone to your build."

"But how is that possible?" Kara stood to her full height, which, with the assistance of the boots, was a considerable improvement. "And why couldn't you have drudged up some potion to make me a few feet taller?" she questioned as an afterthought, taking the bottle into her hands and examining it.

"Never the matter about how it's possible." Winn rubbed a hand across the embroidery at the top of Kara's tunic as though dusting the fabric off; she scowled.

"Never the matter" was always Winn's way of saying "you wouldn't understand." And maybe he was right. She wouldn't understand how the strange servant was able to conjure up odd remedies, inventions and the like, but that didn't mean he couldn't at least try to explain. Others already considered him a witch of some sort, though they dared not publicly voice such suspicions for fear of his exile or death by the many who'd converted to Christianity and viewed witchcraft as an attack on their holy religious traditions.

"And the term _potion_ is too bound up in magical beliefs," Winn continued. "I prefer the word _brew_. Anyhow, seeing as the boots increase your height just fine, and Kieran isn't even a few feet taller, but merely a few inches taller, why waste resources? It's not as though you'll be parting from the boots in public, will you?" He pulled out a comb, parting the woman's shoulder-length blond hair. "Unless you plan to bed your bride?"

"Of course not!" Kara snatched the comb from his hand and backed away. "And she's not my bride. It's Kieran's name that will be on that certificate, not mine, and I highly doubt that he'd take kindly to me ravishing his wife."

"Yes, well, you had better come up with a good excuse for why you won't be bedding her," Mon-El added.

Kara bitterly took a sip of the brew.

"Ah-ah, only a little." Winn waved his hands about. "It only takes a smidge every three to four hours."

Kara topped the concoction back up and gave it to Winn. Taking in a deep breath, she stoically rested her hands on her hips.

"I guess that's a good sign," Mon-El said. "She hasn't stated that --"

"-- It tastes like a horse's ass!" Kara spat, making a repulsed face.

Winn and Mon-El stirred in alarm at the instant masculinization of her voice.

"Winn, you work miracles," Mon-El sang the man's praises, staring at Kara in awe as he circled her. "Whatever a horse's ass tastes like, she truly is the spitting image of Lord Kieran. And the voice...it reminds me of the time you had us inhale that Sulfur Hexafluoride stuff or what have you."

"That was for fun. This isn't that," Winn said, turning to point a finger at Kara. "The masculine build will be slight, but enough to help you pass. It will be more gradual than the voice change, increasing over the hour and days if you keep drinking the brew. It also takes as long to leave your body, but, if you don't keep up with your daily doses, it will leave it. No irreversible side effects."  

"Hair band," Kara said, sighing and gesturing to behind Mon-El. She briefly looked to the inches upon inches of her hair that Winn had hacked off minutes ago, now scattered on the floor. Her beautiful, long locks — all gone. He'd even groomed her eyebrows, manipulating their size, and trimmed her eyelashes. Frowning, she eyed Mon-El quickly scurrying to grasp the requested object and hand it to her. Kieran was nothing without his hair band, at least to Kieran, she mused.

Tying her hair securely in a ponytail, she narrowed her eyes at Mon-El. "How many know of this?"

"Only us," he assured her. "While we have trusted servants, ones who have kept secret your dalliances, the less people that know --"

" -- the better," Winn finished, nodding.

"You should be able to fool even those familiar with Kieran," Mon-El added, giving her the once-over. "You've watched him in action enough times, have had political and combat training like his in the past, and you share his heroic ideals. God's blood, no one puts themselves in danger to save others as much as you two do. But you should make sure to take care of that flustered stuttering and rambling thing you do. And tame that jolly side of yours as well. And that bottomless pit you call a stomach. Kieran doesn't eat as much as you do."

Winn moved toward the door to look out into the hall.

"Just one thing," Kara noted, moving to glare Mon-El in the face. "If I'm Kieran, then who's me? How will my disappearance be explained?"

"Well... Instead of Kieran being gone for three months, we'll just tell everyone that Lady Kara has departed for three months...to attend to personal matters of a sort."

"Clever," Kara remarked sarcastically. "And just what 'personal matters' could take Lady Kara from her homeland for such a long period of time? We don't have any close relatives to speak of."

"Distant relatives, perhaps?" Mon-El shrugged with a grin.

Kara angrily bit on her bottom lip.

"Don't be like that. I told you all of this before."

"No, you didn't," she fumed. But it is something she should have asked. Maybe. "Where's Winn gone off to?" She looked around, seeing Mon-El glance toward the wide, open door.

In the hall, Winn watched maidservants scurry about from the kitchen corridor and back, others waiting to serve food. He gestured for a few of them to make sure everything was well-prepared, and looked back to the room harboring Lady Kara and Lord Mon-El. Kara could see that he had no doubt in their ability to pull off this ruse, but, like her and Mon-El, he did wonder where Kieran's soon-to-be bride must be. She should have been here by now.

Kara moved to the door to stare Winn in the eyes. "Let's get on with it." She moved past him to take a step outside.

"I think you're forgetting something," Mon-El stated, holding up a soft phallus-looking object, straps extending from either side. "Kieran, as a known knave when it comes to dalliances, has never had a woman shy away from groping his rumored endowments."

Kara looked appalled, mouth hanging agape.

"Hey, it's not my fault your brother beds women like he draws breath." Mon-El chuckled, shamelessly twirling the item around. "And if you want to be convincing, you must embrace all that comes along with his...'charming' identity."

Rolling her eyes, Kara moved back into the room, and closed the door behind her. Kieran would pay for this; she'd make sure of that.

* * *

 

 

24-year-old Lady Lena Luthor, hair as dark as night and eyes as green as the brightest sapphire, sat on the elaborate carriage beside her middle-aged father, Lionel, Earl of Northumbria, as he drove the horses ahead. They were daringly flanked by only six soldiers on horseback, Lionel having stated that he wanted to inspire trust — that they trust Lord Kieran Zor-El's people not to put his future bride in any danger. Lena considered that her father must have neglected the fact that they have serious enemies to worry about just as well, including the Normans they were so eager to defeat. Their current lack of protection was nothing but foolish. She'd freshened up in a relatively cheery nearby village only an hour ago, and she'd felt unsafe even then.

Pulling her cloak tighter around herself as she looked at the frosted green and brown shrubbery they passed along the road, she sighed heavily. She could hardly believe that she agreed to this marriage, but Lionel had stressed that it was the people they must take into consideration and not themselves. Lena had never been a selfish person, and there wasn't a day when she did not think of her people, but a part of her could not help believing that this was one freedom she would not have given up if not for her father's insistence.

Ever since she was a child, she had never been fond of males, a feeling which intensified over the years as she witnessed men ogling girls young enough to be their daughters and some, despite the many who treated women as equals, looking down on women as though they were second-class citizens — beings to be dominated and controlled. And she'd never found one male even remotely sexually attractive, no matter how hard she'd tried. So the thought of being married to one, sharing a bed with one, repulsed her to no end. Often, Lionel had stated that she might have some sort of affliction to think of boys and men in such a poor light. This sentiment grew when she revealed that she felt for women what she should feel for men — sexual and romantic desire — and that she was not eager to have children. Lionel had suggested she seek a convent for absolution from such thoughts, but she'd contended that she was of sound mind and not seeking forgiveness. She supposed she should count her blessings that she didn't have a father who would declare her ill to all the world for such confessions.

She did miss Lillian, though. Lillian hadn't been her birth mother, and the woman could be harsh at times, but she was the only mother Lena remembered.

"Maybe there was another way," she said, continuing a conversation with her father from earlier with regard to the union, eyes still focused on their somewhat green surroundings covered in sleet. It was a silvery landscape and, although the sky had been beautiful earlier during their ride, she longed for a summer day.

"You know that there wasn't," Lionel replied, his jet black hair blowing in the wind just as fiercely as his daughter's. "I am more than aware that this marriage arrangement displeases you, but it must be done." He briefly looked to her before refocusing on the road. "And I didn't force your hand, Lena. You agreed."

"I know..." she sighed. "And even with my doubt, I know that I would have agreed to it even if it hadn't been pressed as urgent. I simply can't help thinking..."

"Then don't think," Lionel advised. "Not in this marriage. Make sure that you don't reveal your odd afflictions to your husband either. At least," he whispered, moving close to her, "the ones about your unnatural physical desires." He sat back up, eyes refocusing on the road. "Every man wants an enthusiastic woman in the bedchamber, my dear, despite beliefs to the contrary. You would do well to make sure you give him just that. Make sure that you do...if you want this alliance to be successful."

Lena stared at her father for a moment, almost as though studying him, before looking back to the road.

"Now we must hurry," Lionel said. "The trouble we endured earlier with our transport has delayed us long enough."

* * *

 

 

"Welcome, everyone," Kara said standing in the wide hall, ever looking the part and addressing her wedding guests. Dusk had arrived, and all the guests were seated at their respective tables in wait of lavish meals. Most looked up at her, rapt with attention; others whispered among themselves, specifically about what could be keeping the bride. Some of the men, however, could not hide their eagerness to feast, openly appraising the bowls of fruit adorning the tables while simultaneously downing glasses of wine. "We will dine in a moment," Kara continued. "As soon as the Luthors --"

" -- Now is that how Kieran would approach this situation?" Mon-El interrupted with a whisper beside her. "Think like Kieran," he said, just as the priest approached.

"Will I be giving my blessing now?" the priest, Father Marcus, asked.

Mon-El was right. Kieran wouldn't wait for a bride who'd shown disrespect by being late for her own wedding ceremony. How was Kara to know that the woman was even dressed for the event and that they wouldn't have to wait longer once she did finally arrive? "Yes, you may give your blessing, Father Marcus," Kara relented.

In actuality, she reasoned, Kieran was already essentially married. It was their custom, after all. It only took the consent of all three — the father, woman, and the would-be groom — and the woman was then a wife after the papers pertaining to the matter were drawn up and signed. It may not have been viewed as official until the priest gave his word, but Lena Luthor, whether a priest was there to officiate or not, was already as good as Kieran's property. The wedding was simply a public confirmation more than anything else. And knowing how thorough Kieran was in anything he did, he'd surely already offered his wife a valuable gift, the morgengifu, for her hand in marriage.

"Your bride?" Father Marcus raised his eyebrows.

"Does not have to be here," Kara said firmly. "This," she added, waving her hands around, "is simply a celebration of a union already promised to me, is it not? All you need to do is officiate."

"But to have the bride present, at least for the sake of appearances, would be -- "

" -- Your blessing," Kara reiterated, eyes hard.

"Yes, of course." Father Marcus bowed his head and turned toward the guests. Winn waved everyone's attention to the front, and then Father Marcus finally blessed the union and food. Afterward, he was directed to his seat at the largest table. It was the table in the center, obviously meant for Kieran, his wife and the most noble of guests.

"Mon-El?" Kara nodded for him to take a seat at her side.

Winn smirked and exchanged a glance with Mon-El before taking a seat as well. Kara knew that it hadn't gone unnoticed by either of them that Mon-El's newly-assigned spot was the seat the woman of the evening would have graced.

Some servants made their way back to the kitchen to the boiling pots, while others hurried to bring out the first course of the prepared meals. Some stood a distance away at different tables using large feathers to fan the guests who'd become hot despite the chilly weather outside.

While the first course, consisting of fowl, venison, bread and other such delicacies, was quickly served, Kara clasped her hands under her chin and breathed a sigh of relief as the head of the table. It seemed she would get away with this ruse after all. Missing bride or not.

Mon-El gave her a glance that indicated she should follow his lead. "Perhaps there is a good reason the guests of honor are not here, Lord Kieran."

Kara quickly picked up on his intention. There was only one way Kieran would act among such influential guests. "They could have sent word," she said sternly. "But they have instead disgraced this supper."

She watched as Mon-El prepared to continue his role as the voice of reason. This was one of her brother's routines — Kieran being the unreasonable lord and Mon-El being the understanding nobilis. It all helped to make Mon-El appear as a wise advisor, and to silence those who questioned Kieran's decision to remain friends with him. Mon-El had been the wild one, pulling Kieran into his tangled, immature plots and causing servants and nobles alike to speak of his bad influence on the young lord. That was, until he cleaned up his act once in his 20s. Kieran had even bestowed upon him the name "El," as if he was of relation to them. It resulted in whispers concerning whether they were cousins. It also made people think before badmouthing Mon-El. But his reputation still had a ways to go before he was seen as completely respectable. "If I were you, I would also be upset, Kieran," he said. "But maybe they could not send word. Maybe it is best that we pray that their journey here has been a safe one."

"You can pray for them all you want." Kara snatched up a drumstick from the large tray that had been set before them. "But I will make sure that my bride never forgets this day." She bit deeply into the morsel. "You may all eat; what are you waiting for?" She waved the drumstick around, mouth wide open as she munched on the food.

Even with Father Marcus's blessing, the entire hall had apparently been waiting for Kieran's go-ahead. And now, with that reassurance, they dug in. Immediate chatter and laughter followed.

A smile threatened to spread across Mon-El's face. Kara understood that he viewed her as more of a man right now than half of the men he'd known in his lifetime, and she couldn't disagree that she had Kieran's personality mastered.

Winn cast knowing eyes her way, doing his best not to slurp down his stew while also interchangeably stuffing his mouth with biscuits.

"It seems Lionel Luthor can promise his daughter to me, but not that she has manners,"  Kara sputtered, taking a sip of wine. "Not with the way he has apparently raised her."

"Just be thankful that he promised his daughter to you at all," Mon-El opined with a nod.

"He only did so because he is just as eager to end the Northumbrian unease as we are." Kara took another bite out of the drumstick, spotting some noblewoman with a bottom lip as full as her own, but with eyes far more dazzling, staring at her from across the table. In the next instant, she ignored the woman. "We all know that offering up his own flesh and blood was more of a sacrifice than a blessing."

"You had other options. Any one of the noble daughters from the Northumbrian alliance might have been just as good. Why choose the Luthors?"

"Listen to yourself," Kara chided. "I did not choose; it was up to King Edward the Confessor. And the decision to select the Northumbrian daughter to marry the Earl of Wessex was an intelligent choice, was it not? A smarter choice might have been for the king to marry the Luthor daughter himself...if he were not already married, of course. But that is all in the past now. I'd rather hear no more talk of 'might,' as if it is as real as the air we breathe. 'Might' is a big word, friend. Why choose such uncertainty when going for the direct hit is within reach? Has war taught you nothing?" She wiped her hands and face on a piece of cloth. "Besides...I've heard this wench is especially ugly. If true, it means I can focus on business and business alone. No love. No devotion. No bedding the beast."

Mon-El and Winn exchanged looks. And those looks clearly noted that Kara had come up with a way to avoid intimacy with the bride after all, and that to announce it in public was nothing short of genius. Their looks also indicated that speaking of and revealing to everyone that the marriage was a sham was absent much harm since they were at least among trusted guests. But Kara was not sure. It was their custom that their private lives be just as public as their business lives. Everyone in the earldom knew one another's affairs. If there were problems within a marriage, people in the earldom felt it important to help resolve the issues. The community also did their best to prevent unhappy or arranged marriages from going through, as the problem affected not just the husband and wife, but the entire community.

"Well, we shall see what Benicio LorMane has to say about all of this," Mon-El commented.

Two guards suddenly entered the wide hall. Winn immediately noticed and excused himself from the table, quickly walking toward them. Mon-El and Kara simply watched. Winn always took it upon himself to see to any suspicious matters that may concern Kieran. And two guards interrupting a noble supper was certainly a suspicious matter.

Winn hurried back to the table, and Kara figured he wasn't as out of shape as she'd previously thought. "It would appear, Kieran..." Kara arched an eyebrow, and Winn cleared his throat. "My lord," he corrected himself, knowing how important it was to respect Kieran's title in public, "your bride and her father are here."

Mon-El and Kara exchanged calculated glances, Kara knowing that she must keep up appearances. "Some of the hired help can see to them," she replied.

A good number of the female guests gasped, only be to scolded by their lovers or husbands.

Winn's expression hinted that Kara might have been taking this act a little too seriously. She knew he wasn't so naive to think that Kieran would be accommodating or gracious at a moment like this, but maybe it was best to show some respect for Kieran's wife under these circumstances.

"Would it not be best that you greet them yourself, my lord? Make sure that they had a safe journey?" Winn queried.

"They're here already, aren't they?" Kara folded her arms across her chest, sticking to her persona. "The journey couldn't have been too threatening." She crossed her legs, uncrossing them just as quickly when she remembered that this wasn't a trait Kieran ever exhibited. "If they want to enter the main hall, then let them. But I will not greet such disrespectful people."

"You may wish to push aside your stubbornness long enough to know why they are late," Mon-El said, smirking only briefly as he rubbed his beard.

"No, I do not."

"But it is likely not a disrespect at all."

"It is to me." Kara bit on her bottom lip.

Winn sighed and moved back out of the hall, as if thinking it probably would have been better to work his so-called magic and have Kara greet the woman she was to be married to for the next three months.

* * *

 

 

Lionel Luthor stood in the greeting area by the front doors, looking as appalled as any man could. His daughter stood behind him while their men waited outside.

"He refuses to welcome us? After our travel for days?" Lionel asked.

"That is correct, my lord," Winn replied. "But Lord Kieran is a reasonable man, I'll have you know. He has felt disrespected by your tardiness, is all. "

"Our tardiness is only due to the fact that we had prepared gifts for this day," a feminine voice challenged. "Gifts that I insisted on having prepared. And because I insisted, we were later than expected. You see, my dear man, before finding out that two of the requests had not made it to the castle, my subjects spent a substantial amount of time attempting to locate them."

Winn looked past Lionel, trying to find the location of the voice.

"Quiet now," Lionel attempted to silence his daughter as though a child.

"I only speak the truth, father," Lena said, moving from behind him and stepping to his side.

Winn stared in awe at the dark-haired beauty before him. She was covered in a dark cloak that contrasted her pale face in the most profound way; although the hood covered her head, the strands of hair that Winn saw extending from it were lovely all on their own. He did his best not to ogle. "If you like, I can escort you both to your bedchambers," he offered. "I will make sure that you are served excellent meals and --"

He stopped when he noticed the way Lena was glaring at him. She looked from him to the double doors of the wide hall, clearly smelling the various assortments of foods, hearing the jolly commotion. "They appear to be enjoying themselves," she stated.

"Indeed, my lady," Winn agreed, becoming nervous at the direction of the woman's gaze.

"We should not enter uninvited," Lionel stated, seemingly echoing Winn's thoughts.

"We were invited. It's my wedding ceremony," Lena replied very matter of factly. "Are they not awaiting my wedding vows?"

"You have already been married," Winn informed her. "The papers were already signed, and our priest, Father Marcus, gave his blessing."

"For a wedding ceremony and celebration to take place without its bride?" Lena asked. "It seems that I have been married off to the most considerate and logical of men," the mockery dripped from her voice.

Winn looked to her as though she was a foreign object; other than Kara, never before had he seen a woman speak her mind so freely in public, and certainly not with regard to her husband.

Lena called toward one of her guards who had been waiting outside the palace; with the approval of the palace's stand-by soldiers, he entered to move right before her. "Make sure that the horses are tended to, and that you and the men find decent meals in the kitchen before being shown to your quarters," she commanded.

"Yes, my lady," the guard said with his fist beating once against his chest before he exited the palace.

Lena turned back to Winn. "Show me in?" she asked innocently enough, extending an arm. "Winslow 'Winn' Schott...but 'Winn' for short, you said your name is?"

Winn wanted to run, for Lord Kieran was quite mismatched in having been given this woman as a mate. She wasn't the quiet, docile type that he'd bedded and/or courted, and Winn reckoned that this would be a hostile marriage indeed — two fierce personalities clashing day in and day out. It was lucky that Kara would be meeting her instead. Lucky...if Kara wasn't putting on such a strong act as Kieran.

Even knowing that it appeared that Lady Luthor needed no such approval, Winn glanced to Lord Lionel for just that.

"Pardon my daughter," Lionel offered as an apology. "She has always been headstrong."

And it was with those words that Winn straightened his apparel and interlocked an arm with Lena's. "This way, my lady."

* * *

 

 

Lena observed her surroundings; the hall reminded her of her own, except that hers was wider and lacked the elaborate decorations. Kieran's hall was also warm and welcoming, and the smells of food stirred up her appetite.

Her eyes darted to immaculately-dressed nobles at long tables, eating to their hearts' content. And then she saw a blond man sitting at the head of the most prominent table. She was certain that his appearance was what most people would describe as beautiful. In fact, there appeared to be a softness to his features that she couldn't quite discern, and he was more beautiful than most women she had laid eyes upon. This man was without a doubt Lord Kieran Zor-El. His eyes were already on her, cold and somehow distant. Observing. He obviously knew that she was his wife. And yet, he still made no attempt to welcome her.

Lena nearly burst a vein, she was so irritated. How much of a bastard could one man be? While it was true that she'd met a number of actual bastards in her life, Lord Kieran Zor-El was a nobleman, her husband. He was supposed to display a higher degree of manners. And as a noblewoman, and as his wife no less, she refused to be treated in such a disrespectful way.

She looked to her side to find that Winn had disappeared somewhere, and that her father was also nowhere in sight. And so she returned her gaze to Kieran, who quite clearly had yet to take his eyes off of her. He wasn't too muscular, which she found appealing. It was a nice build. And unlike most other noblemen, he wore no jewelry to bring extra attention to that build or to flaunt his wealth. The way he wore his hair was also unconventional. It was long by male standards, but it was kept tied in a band. And this, too, Lena found appealing. And with the sudden increased intensity of his stare — blue, penetrating eyes that were all-consuming — she pondered if maybe she should have taken Winn up on the offer that she instead dine in her bedchambers. But she quickly shook that thought from her mind, resolving that she would not let this man intimidate her.

She walked farther into the hall, slowly moving toward the table in the center. The brown-haired nobleman beside Kieran, sitting in what she was certain was the seat meant for her, nodded welcomingly toward her. The other guests quieted down, watching her with rapt attention. A plump nobleman stuffing his mouth full of chicken was the only person who didn't pay her any mind.

Kieran continued to glare at her, but still failed to offer any greeting.

Lena stared at her husband, realizing that his subjects and peers might see her showing up here in the hall against his wishes as a great disrespect. It occurred to her then that this may be the reason that her father had not entered the area; he had perhaps attempted to lessen the blow of two disrespectful gestures.

When she made it to the table Kieran was seated at, opting to stand at the front instead of the side, her eyes lowered shyly. "I mean no disrespect, Lord Kieran," she said softly. "When you did not greet me and my father, I did not know what to think. Even more so when I learned that we were married without my presence. I felt that it wise that I speak with you immediately."

It was only then that Kieran rose, pinning her with a dark stare.

Lena stared at the way her husband's tunic fit snugly at the belt of his waist. His ancestral sword was at his hip. It reminded her that one of the gifts she'd meant for him was a new sword, and that an official exchange of swords was supposed to have occurred. Kieran had been meant to receive the new blade, provided by her family, and she had been meant to receive his family’s ancestral sword in return and to pass it on to their eldest son and heir.

She stared at his strong thighs, the length of the legs, surprising herself when she wished that he were wearing leggings or hose like most of the other men in the hall so that she could better assess their sculpture. She stared at his hands, how oddly slender and delicate they appeared, imagining that they must be gentle to the touch.

"Tardiness is not becoming. And could you not have sent word?" Kieran said, scowling. "I had to decide whether to let my guests starve and lull in boredom, waiting for a bride who may never show, or dine and enjoy themselves. You cannot begrudge me for choosing the latter."

"We were preparing gifts, such as the ancestral sword, my lord. And this preparation resulted in the tardiness you speak of," Lena said. "While we were initially on time to make our way to your earldom, two gifts that were requested from a nearby land never made it. We did not know this until it was too late and we subsequently spent valuable time looking for the items." She glanced up at her husband to allow him to see the sincerity in her eyes. She wanted him to know that he had acted unjustly toward her and her father, for they had only been attempting to be courteous. As his scowl became deeper, mouth attempting but failing to form a response, she concluded that she had been awarded a small triumph. "You couldn't have known this, of course," she said innocently enough. "Although you could have sent word to see to it we were safe, we could have sent word just the same. There is, however, the small fact that we were too occupied to send word and doing so when we finally were no longer occupied would have resulted in the messenger making it here at the same time as us."

Kieran did not reply. And his expression remained the same, except for the sneer that formed across his semi-full lips before he once again resigned to his seat.

Lena did not know how her husband could be so cold even now. She could imagine how unhappy some of his subjects must be if he could not even show the slightest margin of empathy in this particular matter. "I should have had the gifts assessed much earlier than I did," she offered, deciding not to express what she truly thought of this man at this time. "Shall I take my seat at your side?" she queried.

"Yes," Mon-El interjected, "you may take my seat, which was obviously yours. Is yours." He stood, pulling out the chair for her. "People usually call me Lord Lar 'Mon-El' Gand, or Lord Gand. Or Lord Mon-El...my chosen name, but you may simply refer to me as Mon-El." He smiled, a smile so blinding that Lena was surprised that teeth could be as white as his.

"Thank you, Lord Mon-El," she stated, making her way to the seat. "Mon-El," she corrected herself. She took off her cloak, and immediately noticed all eyes appraising her gown. It was a lovely piece of fabric, white with leaf-like embroidery lining the neckline and sleeves, and complementary to her bosom and hips with its form-fitting design. The attire, set off by her dark hair — wavy and extending halfway down her back — caught even the eye of the nobleman who had been steadily devouring chicken. Father Marcus also offered a lascivious gaze or two.

Lena pretended not to notice the stares, and occupied her seat. Discussion in the hall suddenly continued, albeit much quieter than before.

* * *

 

 

Kara nearly groaned. By the looks and hushed discussions she witnessed from her peripheral vision, it was clear that everyone believed that she would be eating her words about not bedding her bride, for the woman's beauty was quite remarkable.

"I take it your travel here was safe?" Mon-El asked, taking a seat in one of the two vacant chairs of the main table in order to sit to Lena's left.

"Yes," Lena replied, "and I quite enjoyed the scenery." She briefly turned to him. "Our lands are extremely beautiful."

The noblewoman who had caught Kara's attention earlier was now staring in her direction again, but it was Lena who noticed this time. And with the way that the woman was gazing — provocative eyes which stared suggestively over a golden cup — Lena deduced that the red-haired female and Kieran must be bed partners.

She turned to her husband, only to find him focused not on the other woman, but on her; his gaze lingered on her neck, as well as her bosom. "And I imagine I'd be quite correct in presuming you enjoy the scenery as well," she stated, letting her eyes catch his and her facial expression exude the double meaning.

A sneer formed across Kara's face before she looked away and focused her attention on a nearby wall decoration.

Mon-El, having noticed the interaction, grinned. "And your father?" he asked Lena.

"Is most apologetic for my late appearance," a deep voice boomed throughout the air.

All eyes in the room immediately focused on Lord Lionel Luthor, who stood before their table. Lena saw that he had changed out of his previous attire and was now wearing a more fashionable and therefore expensive tunic, along with equally expensive leggings and boots.

Lena was surprised when she saw her husband instantly rise to greet him. He'd greet her father, but not her? She surmised that it must be due to her father being a man. Such gall always came down to a person's sex. "Lord Lionel," she heard him say. "What a pleasure it is to meet you." She watched as he emphasized the second line with a handshake and briefly looked to her with an expression that seemed to say, "You aren't worth my time, but your father certainly is."

"A pleasure to meet you as well," she heard her father respond. "I had wanted to look more presentable, so I withdrew from accompanying my daughter when she entered the hall."

Frustratedly taking a bite out of a piece of cheese and sipping a cup of wine, Lena decided that she'd seen enough for the night, and certainly enough of her husband. She rose, eyes firmly on him. "I shall retire for the evening." She spotted Winn standing at the hall's entrance, and waved him over. "Escort me to my bedchamber?" she asked.

"Of course, my lady," Winn replied, interlocking an arm with hers. "But do keep in mind that I am not a typical servant."

Lena smiled. She heard the calls of her father and Mon-El insisting that she stay; the former demanded it and the latter asked it. But she continued ahead without another word. She let Winn lead her out into a corresponding hall, up a winding staircase and into another corridor. While Lord Kieran Zor-El might have been successful in driving her away, something he quite clearly wanted, she took comfort in the fact that she had been successful in showing that she was not a woman to be easily intimated, and certainly not one to be dominated, by the needs or whims of any man.

* * *

 

 

When Kara sat down with Lionel Luthor at the main table of the wide hall, she could not help but briefly look over her shoulder in the direction that her wife, Kieran's wife, had departed in. She'd never known a noblewoman to leave without the permission of her husband or another man, or without bidding everyone a good night. No one except herself, that was.

"I understand that my daughter is far too headstrong for her own good," Lionel stated. "But it is also what has contributed to her being one of the strongest women that I know, and one of the few people with natural leadership talent. She has often aided me in decisions regarding the fate of my earldom, including marrying you." He nodded, lifting his cup of wine to take a sip. "I know that some men cannot think of themselves as equals to their women, that they must rule over them even when ruling beside them. But perhaps you are not like such men. Perhaps you can be with Lena like I was with my wife in that regard." He eyed Kara with a calculating stare.

Despite having told Lena not to think in this marriage, Lionel knew that such a request or demand was quite unrealistic; it's not who she was or could ever be. But he had prepared her for the way that the world works — that despite married women generally being expected to assist their husbands in business, and some carrying on business unrelated to their husbands, there were still those men who would rather the woman stay out of such matters. It was because of this that when there was a chance that the world could work at all favorably for his daughter, he was willing to seek it out. Except for giving her his blessing that she seek a woman as her mate. That was something he couldn't applaud.

He stared at this man, Lord Kieran Zor-El,  waiting for an answer.

Kara looked back at Lionel, briefly exchanging a glance with Mon-El before considering her reply. Ruling equally _?_ She wouldn't put it past Lionel's daughter to do so. And the image that formed in her head on the issue somehow seemed appealing. But what would Kieran say?

Deciding to ignore the topic altogether, she nodded to the food before her. "Enjoy yourself," she told Lionel. The man wasted no time digging into his meal and tasting the variety of wines.

"And your sister?" he asked. "I've heard that you're identical in looks, but I have not yet seen this mirror image."

Mon-El cleared his throat while spotting Winn making his way back to a seat at the table.

"My sister has departed, will not be with us for three months. She's attending to personal matters of a sort," Kara said, letting the last word roll off her tongue as she retold the story Mon-El had provided her with. "But she sends her well wishes."

The hall had quieted down significantly, Kara noticed, and she figured that it was the food and wine that had gotten to the people, making them sluggish. She looked to Mon-El and Winn to gauge if they were thinking what she was thinking — that it was best that she retire for the evening now. "Well, if you can forgive me, I believe that I have had enough to eat and drink for the night." She stood. "I assume you can make it back to your bedchamber without any trouble, or that you will have one of the servants escort you there?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lionel replied, taking another sip of wine. "I do understand that it is your wedding night and all."

Kara thought she heard a hint of bitterness in Lionel's voice, but she decided to ignore it. After all, it couldn't be easy for any father to think of their daughter sharing a man's bed. Without further word, she thanked the guests and headed for the corridor behind her.

Mon-El, issuing his apologies for an early absence, followed suit.

Once they were in the corridor alone, Mon-El could not help but fight the grin spreading across his face as they stopped to lean against a wall. "You put on a convincing ruse."

"I suppose," Kara said, biting on her bottom lip.

It was apparent that Mon-El saw the worry on her face, that concerned expression he'd become so accustomed to over the years. "What bothers you?" His tone became serious, and he leaned off the wall.

"She unnerves me," Kara answered honestly.

"How so?"

"She... Well, she... "

Kara's hands flailed. She ran a palm along her hair, back toward her ponytail, before sighing deeply and pushing off the wall. "Can you imagine if Kieran had been here? He wouldn't have liked her, Mon-El. Not one bit." She met his gaze. "A woman who speaks her mind as freely as she does? Who would wish to rule equally?"

"Yes, and you played the part of Kieran perfectly. Barely showed any interest at all," Mon-El said, apparently still quite confused as to what the problem could be.

"She's trouble." Kara shrugged, folding her arms across her chest. "And I'm not fond of the way she seems to act as though she has bested me."

"It's Kieran she thinks she has bested, and I like her," Mon-El confessed with a smile. "Good to be in the presence of such a unique woman."

"You're taken with her." Kara took a step back, assessing Mon-El with careful eyes. "You do know that's my brother's wife you're drooling over?"

Mon-El blushed. "What part of my previous statement leads you to believe that I'm taken with her?"

Kara looked him over, but didn't say a word.

"She is attractive," Mon-El stated. "I'll give you that."

Kara looked to the ground, pondering. She pondered Lena's hair, eyes, lips, skin. "Curves," she said out loud without thinking.

"Excuse me?" Mon-El questioned.

"I... I only meant," Kara stuttered. "It's not like you have to say it," she scolded. "We all have eyes."

Mon-El arched an eyebrow. "Hmm. Could it be that Lady Kara is jealous? Or smitten herself perhaps?"

Kara's eyes locked onto his swiftly. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Hmm," Mon-El repeated, still looking her over.

"Instead of standing there examining me, why don't you go back into the wide hall and see to it that the guests are taken care of? Or at least have someone capable see to it?" She moved past him, heading farther down the corridor. "Which room is it that Lady Lena occupies?" she called over her shoulder.

"Right wing. One on the far end," Mon-El replied. "It was her request prior to coming here that she have her own bedchamber. That she not be regulated to sharing one with her husband."

"Remarkable," Kara uttered.

"And, Kara?" Mon-El watched her continue on ahead. "What is it that you're planning to do by visiting her this late?"

Kara stopped and turned to him. "Have to keep up appearances, you've emphasized. Will my bride not grow suspicious if we do not meet in a bedchamber on our wedding night?"

"Kieran's wife," Mon-El reminded her.

"Stay calm, Lord Gand." Kara smirked. "It is not as though I am going to ravage the woman. But something must be done to keep any suspicion from arising."

"Not too long ago, you were insisting that intimacy was out of the question. And now look at you."

"Go back to the celebration, Mon-El." Kara turned her back on him, continuing on her way. "Or what's left of it; I shall be careful, I promise."

Kara didn't have a plan in the least. All she knew was that Lady Lena Luthor irked her. That she didn't quite believe the story about the tardiness. And that the woman seemed to challenge everything about her, or rather everything about Kieran. And since Kieran was who she needed to be for the next three months, part of that meant never letting a woman get the better of her. Never letting women think that they were Kieran's equal.

No. Lady Lena Luthor had to be shown just how little she affected anything in this earldom.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. The next update won't take as long.

* * *

 

 

Kara approached Lena's bedchamber steadily, stopping briefly when seeing a blond maidservant leaving the room. The woman's name was Aisly. Kara had come to know her as one of the more experienced maidservants in the palace, if not the most experienced. She was middle-aged, a bit plump, and had the kind of eyes that never failed to relay exactly what she was thinking. Now, for example, Kara could see that the woman was having impure thoughts — thoughts about what Kieran and Lena were to do in the nuptial bed.

Aisly slowly closed the door and moved past Kara with a knowing smile. "Be gentle, my lord," she uttered. Kara watched her continue down the corridor, the up-and-down bob of her shoulders indicating that she was silently chuckling about the awkward encounter.

Kara made a mental note to inform the woman to be more professional in the future. She moved to stand before Lena's door a second later and knocked once. When she didn't receive a response, she grasped the handle and slowly pushed her way inside.

Looking around, it was clear that the room had been well prepared for the expected interaction. There was new furniture, including a fresh carpet, a golden bed with satin sheets, a bronze table presenting cheese, grapes and wine to the bed's left. And even the air in the room smelled fresh, like spring time.

On the other side of the bed, near the lamp resting on a second bronze table, stood Lena, staring at her with an icy gaze. She was in nothing but a light shift and underskirt, but they were unlike any shift and underskirt Kara had ever seen. They were sheer, enabling Kara to catch a glimpse of pale flesh and the pink tint of nipples before Lena angrily grabbed a second, longer shift and instantly put it on and swiftly turned away from the lamplight.

With what little she had seen of Lena's body, Kara heard an inner voice consider that it could not be too displeasing bedding a woman.

Lena hugged the shift close to her and turned back to Kara. "I'll have you know," she said, "that I am not responsible for this." She gestured around the room, and Kara wondered just who was responsible for this. Surely, neither Mon-El nor Winn had requested such an arrangement, knowing full well that she had no intention of sleeping with the brunette. Kieran must have arranged it before his urgent business matters arose. The whoreson zed had forgotten to call this aspect off.

"If I had it my way," Lena continued, chin raising stubbornly, "I wouldn't share a bed with you at all."

Kara smirked. "With all due respect, my lady, a lot more than simply sharing a bed will be going on in this bedchamber." She didn't know why, but she quite enjoyed the blush that rose to Lena's cheeks.

Lena hugged herself even tighter. "And I also don't plan to offer up my virginity. You may have my backside, but that is all."

Kara chuckled, her eyebrows arching in surprise at what the woman was willing to offer. "And that will spare your virginity, will it?"

"Absolutely," Lena said resolutely.

Kara closed the door, but her eyes stayed on Lena. She walked to stand in the center of the room, arms folding across her chest. "And what of my honor? To be married to a woman that I haven't even properly deflowered?"

Surprisingly, there was room for Lena's chin to rise even higher. "It is in my opinion, Lord Kieran, that you have no honor to begin with."

There was a tense silence that passed between them, eyes challenging eyes, steady breaths challenging steady breaths, and then Kara's eyes became cold. She moved to Lena so swiftly that the brunette didn't appear to realize that Kara had pulled their bodies together until it had already happened. "What makes you think that you can talk to an earl, your husband, in such a way? What kind of wife would be so insolent?" 

"What kind of husband would treat his wife the way that you have treated me tonight?" Lena fired back.

It was those words that broke whatever Kieran-like spell had temporarily overtaken Kara in the moment. She instantly dropped Lena's hands, stepping back an inch to only stare at the beautiful face before hers. The woman probably considered her a complete monster.

Briefly closing her eyes to regain her composure, she reopened them to find Lena studying her in a most concentrated way. She moved closer again. "Lena...that's a lovely name." One of her hands reached out to caress the brunette's collarbone; Lena shivered, but held her ground. "And your eyes...so wonderfully green," Kara added, so softly that it was only a whisper.

Lena frowned, but it didn't seem brought on by simply being touched, but rather out of shock that the touch was soft and gentle. Kara knew that it was a contrast to the hardness she had experienced all night.

"I want to see more of you," Kara said, eyes roaming the length of Lena's body. Her hand moved from Lena's neck, forming a finger that dragged along the curve of the woman's right breast. It rested there, methodically circling a nipple.

Jumping at the touch, Lena again held her ground. The attended-to nipple was causing her skin to flush. "I...," her words faltered. She caressed the face before hers for a reprieve. "Why is your skin so soft?" she asked, almost in awe. Her hand mimicked Kara's by forming a finger, dragging it to Kara's lips. "I don't like men... I don't like you."

When Kara leaned in, intent on a kiss, Lena halted it, two hands pressed to Kara's shoulders. "I don't like men," she repeated, softer than the last.

Kara, as if suddenly realizing the dangerousness of the situation, took a step back. Lena had already noticed a difference, maybe more than that, distinguishing her from men. To try to proceed any further would only lead to exposure. She wouldn't be able to take off her boots without exposing her true height, and she wouldn't be able to take off her clothes with exposing her female form. "I apologize," she offered, walking backwards. "It would be best if you had some time to accept this new life. To accept me."

And with that, she departed.

* * *

 

Lena sighed heavily, as if that alone would free her from her racing pulse and the semi-damp sensation between her legs. She was confused and frustrated, angrily discarding both of her shifts and throwing them over the footboard of her bed. She was not attracted to men. She never had been. So why had her body reacted in such a way when being touched by Kieran Zor-EL?

She blew out the lamp and slipped into bed, pulling the covers tightly around her, wondering what she had been thinking to let such a soulless beast of a man touch or caress any part of her so intimately without fighting him on it. But there was the fact that she had seen a different side to him there in those final moments. Something gentle perhaps? She hadn't been able to tear her gaze away from the way his eyes sparkled in the lamplight — blue, lustful and warm— the way they complemented such an astonishingly attractive and feminine face and looked at her as though they had only just now experienced a woman's body. It was the closest Lena had ever come to sensuality, and it shocked her to know that she found it intriguing.

The wedding ceremony certainly had not been what she had expected. Her father had behaved toward Kieran in a way she'd rarely seen him behave toward any man that had taken an interest in her. Stranger yet was that he did so when Kieran could barely be bothered to give her the time of day. It made her think that there may be something more to Kieran than meets the eye, something that her father had noticed and she had not.

Looking at the moonlight filter in through the window, she admitted to herself that while Kieran was not her ideal mate, he was interesting. He had felt disrespected by her late arrival, which was understandable. But then he had blown matters out of proportion, with rudeness and all types of resulting insensitivity. And then there was the last encounter tonight. He seemed disappointed that she had halted their interaction, leaving swiftly and almost as though embarrassed.

Lena harumphed. At least Kieran now knew that she was not a woman to be treated like the dirt beneath his shoe.

* * *

 

Lena explored the right wing of the palace the following morning, barely able to keep her thoughts free of Kieran. Deciding to become more familiar with her surroundings had seemed like a good distraction, but, with it proving futile, she considered finding some common ground with the brute.

She entered a wide area, surveying its contents. It appeared to be a musical room, full of an assortment of instruments. She soaked in the attention to detail, engrossed in how the Zor-Els seemed to take everything to the extreme. The floor was made of marble, the ceiling of clear glass, allowing for an abundance of sunlight that made Lena want to bathe in it. And the instruments were aligned in neat rows extending from the wall to midway in the room. It was a storage room perhaps. There were flutes, lutes, harps, citharas, and many more such tools. Some were on shelves that protruded above the rows. Lena couldn't keep track of them all, but she recognized one that almost brought her to tears. It was a hurdy-gurdy. Just one, by itself next to a row of flutes. 

Lena could still remember when Lillian would sit beside her as a small child and have her play one side of the hurdy-gurdy, while she played the other. Their hurdy-gurdy was an organistrum. It had one melody string and two drone strings, which stretched over a shared bridge, and a small wheel. It needed to be played by two people. One would turn the crank while the other pulled the keys upward. Lena remembered that pulling keys upward was inconvenient and sometimes unmanageable; this allowed only slow tunes to be played. Lena had initially found the instrument dreadful, but Lillian had told her it would make her disciplined, stronger, and more cooperative. In Lillian's view, cooperation was something most men lacked, which is why they caused so much turmoil and waged so many wars. And with what Lena had learned and seen of men since then, she couldn't argue with the notion.   

The sound of three voices filtering in through the window at her left pulled her out of her reverie. One of the voices was Kieran's, but she couldn't quite make out the other two. She moved to peer out the window, seeing a pair of identical male twins. They were in their late teenage years or early twenties, and stood in the courtyard in front of Kieran. The young men looked like the hired help. One of them rubbed provocatively along Kieran's leg, next to his manhood, while the other nibbled on his ear. "You knew me as one individual before," one of the boys said. "Now you can doubly know me." He pulled his brother closer. "This is my twin, Alger. He can slip in and take my place, not only for the workload with regard to business, but for pleasure as well. Not that pleasuring you is a chore, my lord."

Lena covered her mouth swiftly, muffling the gasp that would have surely escaped from it. Her husband, Lord Kieran Zor-El, favored men? Then was his interaction with her last night an act? Did he enjoy both men and women? Lena knew she hardly had the right to be offended, considering her own sexual predilection, but a part of her could not help but be upset by the revelation. Exasperated and wholly perturbed, she moved away from the window and exited the room.

"I'm no longer interested in you," Kara ground out, stepping back. "Not in that way, Alden. Or your twin, for that matter. And pray tell, how is that you know I'm not Kieran?"

The hurt showed on Alden's face. He was a thin boy, and barely had any scruff to speak of, but he'd been attractive enough for a time. He was the only lover Kara had ever known, but they hadn't talked much. She hadn't even been aware that he was a twin like her. And now, in just a matter of hours, whatever affections she'd had for him seemed so distant. She couldn't keep seeing him. Not with everything that she stood to lose. Cutting ties with him sternly and unceremoniously was the best course of action.  

"I'd recognize you anywhere, Lady Kara," Alden said. He looked to the ground, fidgeting with his sleeves. "And besides, a few of the help know of this plot -- you taking Lord Kieran's place. Aisly told us so that certain things work out smoothly."

Aisly?! Kara almost cursed under her breath. The crone! No wonder she'd acted odd the previous night. Kara sighed _._ So now it was two things she needed to discuss with her.

"Be certain no one else knows," she warned.

Alger cuddled with Alden, pinning her with a gaze that spoke of how protective he was of him.

"I know I'm your only stable boy, and you like my work. So I don't need to worry about another taking over for me," Alden said. "But what happens to me -- between the two of us -- now that you're married?" He looked back up at Kara. "It's not you who's married, I know that, but you'll be unavailable just the same. And, Lady Kara, I think I lov-"

"-- You don't." Kara held up a finger as if to silence him. "And the only thing left between us are your duties as the hired help. Is that understood?"

Alden nodded sheepishly, his brother sending angry glares Kara's way. "You used Alden," Alger accused.

"I never promised your brother anything," Kara challenged. "If you two want to trade places every now and then to make your workloads easier, then you have my blessing. Just make sure that no one is the wiser to it. And most importantly, make sure that you stay away from me unless the matter concerns horse riding. I will not have this marriage compromised."

"Yes, Lady Kara," Alden said.

"Now, hurry along. I must be getting back to matters at hand."

Kara watched the two leave the courtyard like two mice scurrying after cheese, again wondering what she had gotten herself into.

* * *

 

"Winn?" Kara called out, entering the young creator's room. She'd never get used to seeing the the many bottles of liquid and pans lined up on shelves and desks in the relatively huge space. Nor did she think she would ever get used to the various potted plants that seemed to match the bottles of liquid. For someone wanting to distance himself from witchcraft accusations, Winn certainly was not helping his cause. Even now, with one of his usual brown cloaks adorning his shoulders, he stood over a table sprinkling some sort of material into a steaming container. He clapped loudly and jumped a little as though a child seeing his first horse.

Suddenly, his eyes met hers. "Oh, Kara! Come in, come in. You'll never believe what I just made."

"A spell to whisk me away from here?" Kara jested, closing the door behind her before walking to her excited friend.

"No, no. Better than that," Winn assured, moving in front of her with a grin. "Some perfume for my mare."

Kara rolled her eyes. So he actually was giddy over a horse.

"She's a beauty," Winn continued, "but she smells awful. Baths seem to do nothing for her." He moved back to the container, using a ladle to scoop up some of the contents and poor into a wide bottle. "It needs a little perfecting, but this should work wonders."

"I'm happy for you, I am," Kara said sarcastically, moving to lean against a nearby table that was surprisingly empty except for a small spoon. "But we have more pressing issues to attend to." She looked up at Winn. "We aren't the only ones who know of this farce of a marriage. A few servants know as well. Aisly knows, and she told others."

Winn's mouth gaped open. "Wha -- how?"

"Kieran perhaps? He has always trusted her." Kara stood straight, holding a hand to her forehead. "And it's not only that. I feel as though I'm losing myself, Winn. I don't know how long I can keep this up."

Winn quickly moved to her, batting her hand away and checking her forehead for a rise in temperature. "You haven't drank too much of the brew, have you?"

Kara stepped away from his grasp. "No, it's not that." She paced back and forth. "Last night, I was alone with her -- Lena. And I spoke to her the way Kieran would have. And that would seem like a good outcome. But I also touched her the way Kieran would have -- without her permission. At first, I was so lost in being Kieran. But then I wasn't. And I... It was awful."

"You didn't...force yourself on her?"

Kara looked at him with both horror and bemusement. "With what?" She flailed her arms around. "Do you think I've grown a male appendage since we last talked? And do you sincerely think I would do such a thing?"

"Well, you are the first person I used the brew on. I feared that you might have fallen prey to some dreadful side effect. Not a penis, mind you, but a severe personality change." Winn shrugged. "And you spoke of touching her without her permission, so."                   

Kara moved to sit in a chair, propping her elbows as she buried her head in her hands. "It's that I know what it's like, as a woman, to have men want to touch you intimately, is all. I touched her chest... And I..." She met Winn's questioning gaze. "I've never done that to anyone, touch them in a lascivious way that might be unwelcoming."

Winn pulled out a chair to sit across from her. "And did she unwelcome it?"

"No, but I could see the pained conflict in her eyes. She appeared... I don't know. I never want to make her feel that way again."    

Winn stood to lean over the table, offering a hand to her shoulder. "Then don't. You can be Kieran without losing yourself. You can. Just three months, and this will all be over."

Kara stared at him and offered a small smile. She only hoped he was right.

"Now shall we head to the kitchen for the morning meal? I take it that neither you nor the wife have yet eaten?"  

* * *

 

"You'll be what?" Kara asked standing in Kieran's business quarters. Sharing the morning meal with Lena, Mon-El, Winn and Lionel had been awkward enough, with Lena giving her cold stares and barely saying a word. But to be in the situation again, this time with Lena almost demanding attention as she insists that she tour the earldom within the palace walls or Wessex beyond, was akin to torture.

Lena moved to sit beside Mon-El, who offered her one of his blinding smiles. Winn looked over parchments at a desk. Lionel sat opposite Mon-El. And Kara stood by the shelf noticing how Lena was avoiding eye contact with her while giving Mon-El every bit of the attention he desired.

Kara truly didn't need this frustration. Moments earlier, before Lena and Lionel had joined them, she'd been discussing with Mon-El and Winn the fact that some of the hired help was aware of their plot; apparently, Kieran had told a select few of his most trusted servants, Aisly being the top choice. So now, not only did they have to worry about a false marriage and whether or not the servants were truly trust-worthy, there was the current matter with Lena. Their home was a palace within a castle. Most of the threat existed outside of their fortifications, but it could also come from within.

"You want us to let you do so without guards?" Kara inquired.

"Is your earldom so unsafe that I cannot move about it freely? Are you that unloved by your people?" Lena asked, eyebrow arched. Truth be told, she'd rather venture the land alone than to tour for even a second with her adulterous husband. Since there was no hope of her enjoying this marriage, she'd like to enjoy something about this new life of hers. Maybe the kingdom had its joys.

"Do you go traveling about with no guards in your homeland? Tell me, is it that safe, enchantress?" Kara fired back.

Lena rose. "Where'd you hear that name?"

"'Enchantress,' you mean? It's known among enough nobles that some call you 'enchantress' because of how mesmerized your people seem to be by you, how entranced many strangers are by you. So, tell me, is it safe when some may think you a sorceress?"

Kara and Lena held glares.

"Besides, I'm sure you are aware that no matter how loved royalty is, there is always someone looking to bring royalty down. And you know very well that we have the invading Normans to concern ourselves with. And yet you volunteer to move about Wessex unprotected?"

"Yes, I do! Your people need to know that I trust them. This is an excellent opportunity for that."

Mon-El balked. "Lady Lena, I don't think --"

"-- No," Kara interrupted with a wave of her hand, "if she wants to be a dalcop and put herself in harms way, let her."

Once again, Kara and Lena held glares, more intense than the last.

Lionel looked between his daughter and Kara, panicked. "My dear, I don't think you want to --"

"-- I do, father," Lena cut him off, eyes briefly focusing on him. "And you will let me."

"I most certainly will not!"

"Enough!" Kara yelled. "If Lady Lena wants to the tour the land by her lonesome, she will."

The room suddenly became quiet, noise replaced by awkward stares and the fiddling of hands. The only noticeable sound in the room was Winn munching away on a piece of lamb he'd pulled from his pocket. As if for a lack of anything better to distract them, all eyes turn toward him.

"Have you tried the lamb? Delicious," he said, briefly raising the piece of meat into the air. It was enough to cause the room to break into laughter, and Lena to resume her seat.

One of the twins from earlier in the day entered, placing a cup of ale beside Kara; Kara's face went pale when she looked up at the nuisance. It was Alger instead of Alden. She knew this because, besides having a small mole on the left side of his neck, Alden wouldn't dare defy her by showing up in her space like this. Alger smiled down at her before leaving just as abruptly as he came, causing Kara to wonder what game he was playing at.

Mon-El looked confusedly in Alger's direction. "Was that...the stable boy?"

Lionel arched an eyebrow. "You have male servants serve you something as simple as a cup to drink?"

Kara grit her teeth. Was this Alger's plan? To cause confusion and stir gossip?

Lena reached for a nearby glass and sipped delicately. "He seems to like you, my lord." She smirked.

Kara did a double take, perplexed by the sincerity of Lena's statement and the contradictory way it was delivered. That contradictory smirk.

Mon-El looked between the two, seemingly sensing something amiss about the statement, but ultimately shrugging it off. "I'd be more than willing to show you around, my lady." He turned his attentions to Lena.

"That is most kind of you, Lord Mon-El," Lena replied, "but --"

"-- You should be of assistance elsewhere," Kara cut in.

Mon-El gave her a questioning look. "Assistance elsewhere?"

"I promised two men of noble blood that you'd offer them combat training today. They are young lads looking to improve their fighting technique. Should be here within the hour. You can use that time to get acquainted. Sparring begins by noon."

"I see," Mon-El replied, rubbing his beard suspiciously.

"Well, that settles it then," Lena said, rising with a shrug of her shoulders. "I shall go about and beyond the castle by my lonesome."

"Doing so may pose a danger," Kara reiterated.

"So you've already told me," Lena replied. She looked to her father to see that he was offering her a most displeasing expression.

Kara looked to Lionel as well, urging him to talk sense into his daughter. Lena noticed the exchange, and Kara could see that the brunette found it odd. To her, it no doubt painted Kieran as a contradiction, someone who would state a disregard for her well-being only to concern himself with it after all.

Lionel cleared his throat. "Would it be so unreasonable, dear, to heed your husband's advice in this regard, as a good show of your union? That it will be happy and prosperous?"

"If by 'happy and prosperous,' you mean 'miserable and obedient,' then no," Lena retorted. "And, regardless, he gave no such advice; only questions posed to suggest that I'm a clueless child." She pulled her shawl tight around her body, then exited the room without another word.

Kara frowned, eyes remaining in the direction which Lena departed. The expressions she'd just given her and Lionel were expressions Kara knew well. She'd witnessed them on the faces of soldiers, kings and any man who hated to have his position questioned. Kara had witnessed it on Kieran's face plenty of times — that expression that said things were supposed to go his way or no way at all. But to see it on a woman's face was a rare thing.

"Lord Kieran," Lionel began, as though he meant to make apologies.

Kara waved him off. "No." She turned to him. "She is your daughter. And now my wife. I know that I should do better concerning her safety. Leave it to me."

Lionel nodded appreciatively.

"You may take your leave now, Lionel. I wish to converse with the others alone." Kara's words gave no indication of being a request. They were an order, and Lionel understood. Rising, he bowed and exited with just enough hesitation to convey his worry.

Kara closed the door, waiting a moment to open it to ensure there was no sign of eavesdropping. She moved to sit at the table with Mon-El and Winn. "How can a man raise such a daughter in a world like this? A daughter who seems to pay no heed to the rules that regulate women?"

"I surmise that he had very little say in the matter," Winn offered with a smile.

Mon-El chuckled. "As I've said before, Lady Lena is a remarkable woman. However, as made clear at dinner last night, women are not as restricted as you make them out to be; it's rather that certain men restrict them. You'd do well to bond with Lena. Otherwise, I fear that once our ruse is up, and should she learn of it, she will be looking to end you."

Winn nodded. "Yes, yes. Better to try to soften the blow. If the girl takes a liking to you, the better the chance that forgiving our deception will be made easier."

Kara leaned back in her chair, assessing them both. "So your suggestion is that I cater to Luthor?"

"Bond with," Mon-El emphasized.

"If Kieran were here, she would not like him. Their time together likely wouldn't even resemble bonding," Kara noted.

"But Kieran is not here," Winn countered.

"It is my job to make it seem that he is," Kara argued.

"Our job," Mon-El interjected. "We can do that without making it so that his wife hates him. Hates you." Mon-El pointed a finger. "And don't make it out as though you haven't considered bonding with her. You never did tell me what happened between you two in her bedchambers last night."

"And I never will," Kara grumbled.

Mon-El gave her an unrelenting look, just as Winn whistled suspiciously.

"We didn't sleep together, if that's what you're after."

"Define 'sleep together,'" Mon-El remarked with a grin.

"We didn't bed each other! Understood?" Kara rose with frustration, going to lean against a shelf.

"Touchy subject?" Mon-El questioned, arching an eyebrow. "Listen, Kara, we don't mean to push --"

"-- Speak for yourself," Winn said, raising his chin mischievously.

Mon-El offered him a look of annoyance before concentrating back on Kara. "As I was saying... We don't mean to push you, and I certainly don't think it wise that you deflower Kieran's wife, but you are somewhat interested in her, are you not? For example, I'm not regulated to any combat training session today, am I? Claiming such was not only your attempt at besting Lady Lena, but also an attempt at dissuading her from going alone. If you didn't care for her at all, you wouldn't have bothered." He sat up straight, leaning on his elbows. "She reminds you a bit of yourself, doesn't she? How she loathes bowing to any man. Well, use that interest, that caring, to your advantage."

Kara turned to him, squinting. "How many questions did you just ask in that moving speech?"

Mon-El laughed, standing to approach her. Like Winn earlier, he touched a hand to her shoulder. Kara considered whether it was something all men did to be more convincing or to lessen a blow. "Trust me," he said.

"Like both of you, I care about her not going alone," Kara admitted. "Luthor is vital to the earldom, and that Kieran would have my head if anything happened to her is also a factor."

"He wouldn't literally have your head. You're his sister and he cares a great deal for you," Mon-El assured. "As for me, I obviously admire the woman; so it's not just her importance to the earldom that has me concerned for her safety. And as for Winn..."

"-- Not personally concerned with her," Winn said shrugging his shoulders. "But she's a lovely young lady," he added, earning him a smirk from Kara and Mon-El.

"So...," Mon-El pressed, "how the relationship between you two develops is mostly up to you."

"Or to Lady Lena herself," Kara sighed.

Pushing to her feet, she nodded, her mind obviously made up. "Winn, get my fluffy pillows -- the ones embroidered with bunny ears -- ready for later, will you? I have a feeling I'm going to need a long nap before this day is over and done with."

* * *

 

Lena surveyed the areas just outside the castle gates — the townspeople or citizens milling about in a community more vibrant than she ever expected, the smell of flowers freshly planted in a nearby garden, the smell of mouth-watering bread and other varieties of food emanating from the local bakery, the chitter-chatter of people at various markets. All things that were so much livelier here than within her own palace. Odd, she thought, that Kieran should have such a community, given his overall brooding demeanor; it's as though a swap had been made and it's her overly serious and conservative townspeople he should have been "blessed" with. But she also knew that it could be her father ruling with a sterner hand that had resulted in such a contrast.

Breaking her out of her musing was Kieran's voice behind her. Had he come to stop her, after all? Panicking, she took off down a road, with that angry male voice calling after her.

Kara raced in Lena's direction, stopping and cursing under her breath. Watching the woman's retreating back, she knew that for all of her earlier talk of people looking to slight royalty, none of the commoners here were likely to recognize Lena. Her own predicament was not so unclear. With as many times as she and Kieran had addressed the people from their castle balconies, and with all of the statues or occasional drawings or paintings of them publicly accessible, she would not be so easily unrecognizable. At least not without something to shield her appearance. Opting for a cloak, she hurried to a sales stand to her left and purchased the biggest and darkest one available. If the merchant recognized her, he said nothing of it as she speedily donned the fabric and shielded her face as much as possible.

"Elder?" a young and tiny voice gained her attention. Kara looked down to see a brown-haired boy of maybe five years tugging at her pants. "A pretty lady told me to give this to you." Kara took the rolled up paper from his hand to examine its content; it read: "Now you can doubly know me."

Kara's face went pale. Those words. They were spoken by Alden earlier in the day. Lena had been there somehow. Had heard their discussion. "Horse manure!" she violently tore up the paper, offering apologies to the boy for her foul language, before heading off in Lena's direction.

Having to worry about falsely presenting her sex for three months was problem enough. Having to worry about Kieran's bride — a taunting, witch of a bride — thinking that he takes men to bed? "Horse manure!" Kara cursed again. For the second time, and not even a whole day since the last, she vowed that she would put Lena Luthor in her place. She would see to this if it was the last thing she did.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Most sources state that Harold Godwinson (Kieran) landed in the Norman province of Ponthieu in 1064; others state 1065. I've gone with 1065 since the previous Earl of Northumbria was exiled that year, which is why this story sees the Luthors becoming the face of Northumbria in 1065 (although the exile of the previous earl happened later in the year).

As always, you can find me at <https://greatshow1.tumblr.com/>. 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Lena folded her arms behind her head as she relaxed back on an open field. She'd been pleased with herself upon seeing Lord Kieran stalk past her hiding spot, but she'd veered off course from the main road and slipped between some houses. The path had led her into a forest, but it wasn't dense enough to obscure the spectacular view of the countryside. Vibrant, green hills overlapping each other, set off by animated clouds, and flowers seemingly existing only to decorate the grass, was a sight to behold. The path itself brought intrigue as well. It was close to the meadow, where it was easy to overhear snippets of conversations among the farmers, who were already concerned about preparing for harvesting time later in the year. They had also made jests, and talked lovingly about their families. Lena concluded that at least her husband was in the good graces of his people. Otherwise, she would have witnessed complaints about hard times and not being able to support one's family.

Smiling, she watched the leaves of the tree she was nestled up against blow in the wind. It was chilly, but not too cold. She deeply inhaled the smell of ham stew filtering along from one of the nearby houses. The occasional small animal, a hare at one point, scurried about. It had been a long time since she felt this relaxed, and she intended to savor it for as long as she could.

Lord Kieran did not seem to be the sort who would ever take the time to appreciate nature in such a way. If she wanted to enjoy moments like this, it would by her lonesome, as it always had been.

But was there anything Kieran took the time to enjoy? Besides the company of young men, that was? Her stomach churned at just the thought of the two boys rubbing up against him. She was alone in this marriage. How utterly depressing.

Turning over on her side, she resigned to the idea of doing well without Kieran. A beautiful, intelligent woman was more suited to her needs than any man anyhow. She needed a woman she could spend moments resting under a tree with, sharing thoughts over matters that interested them both.

As she began to sit up, thinking she didn't need Lord Kieran Zor-El, she spotted boots at her eye level and halted.

"What do you think you're doing?" she heard Kieran say.

Lena looked up into those hard, disapproving eyes and turned her back on them. "Surely you are not blind, my lord." She ran her hands along the grass.

"You know that it is a danger for you -- any woman -- to be out here alone like this." Kara tossed her cloak to the grass.

"You only care about the earldoms. Not about me; let's not pretend that you do," Lena retorted.

Kara marched to her then, pulling her up by the arms and staring her in the face. "All right. Let us also not pretend that you are any better than me, that the only part of this marriage you are concerned with isn't also the earldoms." She pulled Lena closer as the brunette pushed at her shoulders to keep their chests from meeting. "I can either make this marriage pleasant for you or a night terror. Since you are my wife, and your actions will reflect upon me, I would prefer to make it pleasant." She knocked Lena's hands away with one swift move, and their chests actually did meet, causing Lena to gasp at the sensation and square her jaw in defiance. "Making people miserable, as I do on the battlefield, is my specialty, but so is taking those I favor to bed."

Lena raised her chin, an action that was becoming all too familiar to Kara. "Then perhaps you should consider our marriage a battlefield, especially since very little, if any, fornication will be taking place during it," she countered, pushing away from Kara to move along the grass.

Kara watched her, dumbfounded. By the heavens, what kind of woman was this? To talk back with such confidence, going so far as to indicate that she would deny pleasures in the bedchambers.

"Not that I'm the type of body you favor," Lena added, turning back to look at Kara with a wink before moving on.

Something about that look and the words upset Kara, causing her to stalk to Lena and grab her by the collar of her blouse. She didn't say a word. All she could think to do was stare. It wasn't like the woman would accept the truth of Kieran's disinterest in men.

Lena took this time to study the hand at her collar, remembering how soft it felt and how shocked she was by that softness. Her eyes flickered up to the bottom pouty lip and then to the hard, unreadable blue eyes. "Let go of me," she whispered.

Again, all Kara could do was stare.

Lena yanked herself away, resulting in part of her blouse ripping to reveal a necklace with a red, liquid-filled vial around her neck.

Kara recognized the design. It had a gold rim and looked fancier than any other vial she'd seen, with its sapphire positioned at the top center, but there was no mistaking the contraption. "A vial of blood?" she asked, nose upturning in disgust. "What is a woman doing wearing a vial of blood?"

Lena, her back partially turned to Kara, held her necklace and torn blouse to her chest, seemingly overprotective of the former. "If I were a man, would you ask me what I am doing with it?" She looked over her shoulder at Kara coldly.

"I'd be more inclined to think it none of my concern," Kara admitted.

"Precisely," Lena replied, flipping her hair and turning away from Kara without a second thought.

Kara watched her walk off into the distance.

By God, how had Lena Luthor gotten this way? Where did that extraordinary conviction and ferocity come from? Was she born like that? Had she gone through something that molded her into the formidable opponent she was? More worryingly, was the reason Lena failed to be intimated by her because she sensed a woman beneath the clothing?

Couldn't be.

Kara had seen the way others looked at her now. And, except for the occasional disgust, it was the same way Lena looked at her — like she was a man.

Kara ran her fingers along her hair, wishing it was free of its ponytail, and grinned. Lena's resolve was troublesome, but she could no longer deny that she was keen on the woman. As she watched her continue on the path along the grass, she realized there wasn't a more respectable wife she could ask for. There wasn't another kind of life mate she could imagine herself being with. When she'd spotted the brunette there on the grass, lost in thought, looking passionate and unrestrained, as though living was worth everything and no one was to keep her from experiencing it to the fullest, it might have been there that Kara knew she would rather be with Lena Luthor or with no one.

But Lena Luthor was not her mate. Lena Luthor was not her wife. Lena Luthor was Kieran's.

* * *

 

A dark cloak adorning his shoulders, Lord Kieran Zor-El moved through the shaded areas of a forest line afforded him in the harsh daylight. Smoke clouded the air and masked his movements beautifully, his progress only stilted by the brutal atmosphere surrounding him. He heard the screams of men, saw and smelled the blood of fallen soldiers amid fire, and others going to battle. It had taken all of his skill to get this far, and now past the hundred or so Normans who would otherwise have his head. He'd mapped out everything, had set up destination points and stops, aided by inside men. Whether they were traitors to the Norman cause so long as they were paid a hefty sum, or his fellow brothers who had decided to thrust themselves into battle and keep more Normans from residing in their lands, it didn't matter.

Kieran watched a man stab another with a sphere, cringing as he witnessed him join a group initiating the beheading of two soldiers. These were dangerous times, and he would rather confront them head-on than have his sister, Kara, subjected to it. He'd set out four days before Kara was to receive word of taking his place. He'd given her no details, except to say that the marriage had to happen without him there. He knew she had likely doubted his sincerity, had considered the whole thing a jest, until the very day the wedding was upon her. He also knew that she likely had questions about it all, but he'd decided that it was better if she knew very little. She needed to focus on the marriage, which he was certain she was better suited for than him.

He would make it to William of Normandy to confirm to William the offer of the crown. At a time like this, Mon-El would say he should want to support William as successor to the English throne, but he knew this visit would be more about his own interests. He was arguably the most powerful figure in England after King Edward. So why should William have the throne instead of him? He would make William trust him and promise he was no threat with regard to seeking the throne for himself. Then he would muster the support required to make his bid.

A flash of light at his feet caused him to look up to witness a hooded figure signaling to him with the reflection of a mirror. It was one of his male contacts, determined on leading him away safely.

Putting his tactical training to use, he made his way through the battlefield, ducking behind piles of wood, tents and stacks of bodies until he reached the man.

"My Lord, are you well?" the contact asked, helping him stand to his full height.

"Barely," Kieran replied.

"Hurry. We must flee," the contact warned, ushering him to a horse before taking the spot ahead of him to steer the animal onward. "The ship is not far from here."

As they dashed ahead, Kieran thought of his sister. He would do his part, and worry about reconciling dates of being in two places at once later. Gaining William's trust and eventually ruling all of England was not just for him, but for her as well. All she had to do was handle a marriage.

* * *

 

 

Kara stood in Kieran's business quarters staring at Aisly. She and Lena had made it back safely within the castle walls. Lena had wasted no time going up to her room, while Kara had avoided Lionel, Mon-El and Winn's inquiries and instead headed straight for Kieran's quarters. She'd sent word for those she wanted to converse with immediately. She needed answers, and she needed them now.

"You mean to tell me that Kieran felt it necessary that you know about the ruse so that his protection of me would be twofold?" She stopped in front of Aisly, rubbing her chin as she watched the woman's expressive eyes stare back at her earnestly.

"Yes, my lady. By having your closest friends and servants know, he felt there was less of a chance for disaster. Only two servants each tend to your and your brother's bedchambers, baths, clothing, and other personal items. And as you know, I am one of those people. Your brother said to me: 'What should happen if a maidservant were to walk in on Kara while she is preparing to present herself as Earl of Wessex?' He proposed scenarios that could be compromising, regardless of how careful you were. Said that we shouldn't expect Winn and Lord Mon-El to take all of these matters into their own hands. That they couldn't. He said he trusts me, as do you."

Kara looked to the floor, considering the woman's words from Kieran's point of view. "I see. And how many of you know?"

"Just four of us, my lady. Four going by the aforementioned two servants each. And six if you include Alden and Alger."

"And Alden and Alger were included, why?" Kara looked up at the woman.

"Like you, Lord Kieran didn't know about Alger. And I only found out a few weeks ago that Alden and Alger had been switching places to take the load off Alden's stable work. Your brother only told me to inform Alden, said something about him being familiar enough with you to..." Aisly scrunched up her nose. "No... That he was in love with you enough to tell you apart from Lord Kieran. There was that and... Well, he didn't want you to..." Aisly looked away, blushing.

"What, Aisly?"

"Well..." Aisly began hesitantly, twiddling her thumbs. "He didn't want you to go without... During the nights when you might find no one else."

"Without?" Kara arched an eyebrow before it suddenly dawned on her what the woman was saying. "Oh... He means bedding someone?" She scoffed, and Aisly nodded sheepishly.

Kara blushed two shades herself, which she knew wasn't very Kieran-like. Agitation followed, taking the place of embarrassment. "My brother thinks that I need his help acquiring a warm body in my bed? And, worse, that I'm as consumed with carnal pleasures as he is that I possibly cannot go a night without a warm body in my bed?"

Aisly again nodded sheepishly. Kara stared at her, thinking that a sheepish Aisly was not something she was very used to. That thought, however, was obliterated when Aisly burst into a giggling fit, covering her mouth as to muffle it.

Kara offered her a stare of reproach, but Aisly giggled more, waving a hand by way of apology. "Forgive me, my lady," she said. "It's just that you and your brother..." Her hands went to her plump belly as her hearty laughter overtook her. "...Are the silliest...awful mess of a pair...that I've ever encountered."

Kara folded her arms across her chest, moving to lean against a desk and stare at the woman. "That so?"

"Yes, yes. Ever since you were children."

"You truly do laugh at the most inappropriate times, don't you?" Kara bemoaned. "I order you to laugh at more appropriate times."

Aisly giggled harder; Kara grit her teeth.

A knock at the door caused them both to straighten up, Aisly's laughter immediately coming to a halt as though it'd never began. Kara briefly looked at the woman, noting that she was perhaps one truly masterful performer. No wonder Kieran had felt she should know of the ploy. If anyone could give her advice on trickery, it was this woman.

"Come in," Kara said.

They observed Lionel as he entered with a concerned expression. "You're excused, Aisly," Kara clarified, eyes focusing on her for only a second, just long enough to convey that they were on the same level about matters. "You may have a seat, Lord Lionel."

"The name 'Lionel' will suffice, Lord Kieran," he said.

Lionel waited for Aisly to leave and close the door behind her before turning back to Kara.

Kara observed him curiously as he sat at a table. Any other earl would likely take great offense to not being addressed by a formal title. Lionel was different. He apparently ruled with a stern fervor, even though his in-person presence was not nearly as domineering. He was a man who'd openly discussed having let his wife and daughter help him govern his lands.

"I presume that you will be departing for Northumbria in a day or so?" Kara asked.

"Indeed," Lionel answered, narrowing his eyes. "But I don't think that's why you've asked me here."

Kara smirked. Lionel was sharp, she'd give him that. "The vial of blood that your daughter wears around her neck... What is the meaning of it?"

"I think that is something you should ask Lena. If she wants you to know, she'll tell you. And that might help build a bond between you two."

Kara leaned back against a wall, examining Lionel a little more each time. "I am asking you now so that I may better understand her and we can get on with this bond you seem so eager to ensure is built. Lady Lena, as you're aware, has yet to take a liking to me. And I believe knowing more about her will possibly remedy that."

Lionel tapped his fingers on the table, never breaking eye contact with Kara. "All right. I will tell you this much; the rest you will have to query from her... Lena wears the blood of her loved ones around her neck. A mix, all concealed within that vial." He sat back. "The vial also serves as a reminder."

"Which loved ones? Her mother is among them, I presume? And a reminder of what?"

"I take it that you've noticed that Lena despises men?" Lionel asked, seemingly with a glint in his eye.

Kara stood straight. "I have."

"You'll need to ask her about all of that. I've told you enough."

"But --"

Lionel waved Kara off, and Kara's jaw nearly dropped at the unexpectedness of it. The nerve. He chuckled, moving toward her so fast that she almost forgot her own quick reflexes, which enabled her to grab the arm forcefully coming her way. They stood there, arms interlocked, eyes challenging the other. "Forgive me, Lord Kieran. I only meant to test your combat skills. And to tell you this..." He leaned in close to her ear. "Hurt my daughter, and it is me you will be hoping forgives you."

Lionel let go of her then, heading for the door. "Indeed, I shall leave in a day or so."

Kara watched the man exit, a smirk pulling at her lips as she thought of Lena's untamed nature. Now she knew where the woman got it from.

* * *

 

 

Lena looked around her massive room, thinking of the events earlier in the day. The earldom was certainly beautiful, with its palace within a castle, lovely courtyards, lively townspeople, defensive walls beyond to protect the townspeople, and staunch guards lining areas of the courtyards and the castle gates. All of it made her long for home, which employed a similar design and way of life. Even the Zorl-El guards, so devoted they were, had asked her if she needed assistance and had been beyond distraught to let her leave alone.

She only needed to be left alone when it came to Kieran. If only she could free herself of his constant presence and still serve both earldoms. How else was she to endure him, or live peacefully, without aggravation and confusion? The way he had treated her outside was horrible, and yet she couldn't shake the excitement that their interaction had provoked in her. There was no denying that she got a sense of pleasure out of challenging him and watching him stand there flabbergasted when she did. But there was something else she noticed whenever he looked at her. Something sincere and quite the contrast to whatever he would do or state. He sometimes looked at her in a way that suggested desire or curiosity. She knew he longed for men, but did he also long for her?

Same-sex attractions might not be what anyone would call standard, but they weren't all that uncommon either. Lena knew many people in her earldom to ignore the matter completely, or to suggest others turn a blind eye to "ungodly things such as that." But maybe Wessex was more tolerant on the issue. Maybe there were women here who shared her desires, women she could confide in, take pleasure in. But finding such women would be a likely challenge.

And what of adultery? Multiple lovers? Could she ever be comfortable with bedding more than one partner?

Lena shook her head, biting on her bottom lip. There were other marital aspects she could take pleasure in. She had the right to work alongside her husband's legal actions; she could take the role of a principal in a legal transaction. She could buy some of her own property, independent of Kieran's. Even ensuring that the property flourished could be to her liking. Anything would be better than being the docile, obedient homebound wife.

She heard a knock at the door and gave her approval for entrance; Aisly appeared in the doorway, bowing briefly before standing straight.

"Aisly, please, there's no need for that," Lena said.

"Thank you, my lady. You requested me, one of the servants stated?"

"Yes. I would like to know if there is a place in this earldom where women such as myself meet with each other to converse."

Before any of the business matters she had in mind were to take place, she would first see if there were other women here who shared her views. Although sexual compatibility would be nice, she longed for a female friend or acquaintance. Back home, she'd only had a few, but a few was all one needed.

"Ah, you mean royal women?" Aisly asked, nodding with confirmation when she saw Lena indicate that her assumption was correct. "There are a few places, my lady. Courtyards, for example."

"Show me where?"

"Of course, my lady."

"You may simply call me 'Lena.'"

Aisly nodded. "Very well."

"But first, before those courtyards, would you be so kind as to show me Lady Kara Zor-El's bedchambers? I understand that her room is on this same wing?"

Aisly's face suddenly drained of color. She twiddled her thumbs. Lena felt that the woman might be reluctant because a lady's room was an especially private matter. Would Kieran disapprove? He very likely would, and Lena didn't want to put the servant in any unnecessary jeopardy. But the woman's demeanor changed back to accommodating.

"This way, my lady... I mean, Lena," Aisly said, turning in what appeared to be self-defeat.

Lena felt bad. But of all the women she was interested in knowing more about, Lady Kara Zor-El was at the top of that list. Was the sibling as cold as Kieran? Did she truly look like Kieran? If so, how similar were their features? Why had she departed for three months? Lena wanted to know all of these things and more.

* * *

 

 

Lena entered Kara's room smiling. She surveyed the area with barely contained intrigue as Aisly left at her request. The room was orderly, far more orderly than she imagined Kieran's room to be. It had a well-sized bed with elaborate curtains adorning it, an oil lamp on a desk to its side, shelves lined with books and antiques, paintings of horses, kings and rivers lining the walls, and a plush-looking rug. It also had a window twice her size, the sunlight pouring through and highlighting the bed.

Lena was tempted to lie on that bed. She felt it only natural to contrast the softness of its material with her own. This way, she would know if she was treated the same as the Zor-Els or more like a guest.

The bookshelf caught her eye again, however, making her wonder what Lady Kara read. Did she read as a pastime? For knowledge? For both?

Lena moved to the shelf, noticing that some of the books were dusty. The dusty ones were of horseback riding, chemistry, mathematical equations and other science categories, while a more commonly used one was of....

"The Anatomy of Sex?" Lena whispered, blushing as she looked through the pages. She was not blushing so much because of the content — the images of sexual organs, various sexual positions, and text to aid them — but rather because she possessed a similar book back home. In fact, she'd requested that more of her items, including her book collection with her most personal and sealed texts, be sent to her new home here in Wessex. She hadn't a clue that any other woman would be as intrigued by such topics. She'd seen young girls scolded or punished for speaking publicly of intimate areas of the body, while such reprimand was rarely extended to young boys who did the same. If anything, the boys were told to tread more delicately in the presence of girls and women when discussing these matters. Lena had never been certain that the so-called pleasures of sex were as worthwhile as people made them out to be, but she was not unfamiliar with answering her body's call for pleasure. Each time was fascinating, exploring with fingers in the solace of her own room. And each time had been the closest she'd come to sexuality. That was, until her wedding night with Kieran.

A folded piece of paper fell out of the book. Lena picked it up to examine its contents. It read: "Brother gave me this as a jest. He dislikes that I have been with the stable boy and wants to control me by scaring me. He said if I am to be sexual, I should know of everything that comes with it, all the dirty things I will have to do to satisfy a man despite the Church's disapproval. He's a wandought. I will read this, but I will not do these things with Alden. I will wait until I am in love, and it will be beautiful."   

Lena furrowed her brow. So Lady Kara was no longer a virgin. And both Kieran and Kara had fooled around with the stable boy. Is that why Kieran had given her this book? Because he was jealous? Lena could feel herself angering at the thought. It seemed that Kieran kept his sister under his thumb as well. She wasn't surprised. 

Closing the book and looking further, she found personal notes between pages of other texts. She and Kara also shared an interest in chemistry and philosophy. The horseback riding the woman appeared to love so much, however, she could do without. Being on the animals tended to make her sore.

Lena scanned the contents of another book and moved backward, intent on flopping down on the bed and reading more, but she stopped when noticing a sheet covering what, from the outline, looked to be a large square frame on the wall beside the bookshelf. Almost on impulse, she moved to the frame and yanked off the sheet. She was left so speechless by the sight before her that she dropped the book.

In front of her, a portrait of a blonde adorned the wall. The woman wore an underdress that was elaborately pleated with golden ringlets up to the tall collar, while the sleeves of the overdress flared to the wrists as though flowers blooming in the spring. The tablet weave of the garment appeared to be silk. And instead of wearing a headdress like so many other English women, the blonde's head was free; her hair was pinned up in what was presumably a bun, with flow-freeing curls framing her face. The face left no doubt that the woman was Lady Kara Zor-El. She had features similar to Kieran's — the well-sculpted eyebrows, feral eyes, long nose, pouty bottom lip. And yet she also had features dissimilar to his — a slightly rounder forehead, thinner eyebrows, more feline-like eyes with the aid of cosmetics, longer eyelashes, a softer jawline. Rosy cheeks. It was these differences that contributed to Lena finding one particularly attractive, and not the other.

"She's stunning," she found herself whispering as she stared longer than she meant to.

* * *

 

Kara didn't hear Winn enter as her feet guided her in a dance around Kieran's room. She donned nothing but a shift, swaying to the servant playing his flute near her window. It had been a long day and she'd needed a reprieve from her duties as Kieran or at least a return to some sense of normalcy. With instructions for Aisly that the only servants who were to come up to her quarters were the regulars, she had sought the one servant among them who was most like a minstrel. Plates of fruit and cakes were brought to her, and she consumed them greedily. She drank heartily and without a care in the world.

But Winn's voice behind her brought it all to a crashing halt.

"Have you lost your wits?" he asked.

Kara turned to him, cup of wine in hand. "Winn, welcome. Why the worrisome expression? Are you here to be a gobermouch? Don't behave like a gobermouch."

Winn rolled his eyes. "Oh no. You've been reading old Irish again."

"I have," Kara squealed, her eyes lighting up with joy. "And I've been indulging in the greatest of tales, such as this woman who traveled far and wide just to save her dying goat. The goat was the only friend and loved one she had left after the drowning deaths of her husband and child." Kara held up a finger signaling Winn to wait as she put down the glass. She moved to grab a book from under her pillow and walked back to him, a big smile plastered on her face. "See? I don't know if all these tales are true, but maybe I can't write such stories one day. That is possible, isn't it?"   

Winn sighed, looking at her with kind eyes. "Kara, there is to be a feast tonight so that others may see how well Kieran and Lady Lena are getting along. It is also for important discussions among nobles." He straightened the sleeves of his tunic. He was dressed nicely, Kara noticed. "I understand that you wanted a moment to yourself, but you have responsibilities greater than the both of us now. You must be there."

Kara frowned, looking to the servant still playing his flute. She gestured for him to stop and to exit. "Don't worry," she assured, looking back at Winn. "He knows. I've been careful."

Winn took the book from her hand. "This," he said, holding it up, "is not careful. You know that Kieran doesn't read anything like this. We shouldn't leave any hint of your personality in his room. If the wrong servant enters --"

"-- They wouldn't dare. Not if Kieran has not allowed it."

"Still." Winn moved to her, touching her chin and moving her face from side to side for examination. "It was careless of me to test the brew on you first. I did use an animal subject, a mouse, beforehand, but a human subject would have been better. I now wonder if the brew hasn't affected your mind in some way. How long have you been off it?"

"My mind is fine." Kara jerked away from him. "Wanting a break, even if reckless, does not mean that I am without my senses."

"Kara."

"You said to take a smidge every three to four hours. It's been six. I wanted to hear my own voice again. See my own face again, without the strong hint of Kieran staring back at me in the mirror."        

"I know," Winn said sympathetically.

Kara walked to the bed, disgruntled, grabbing her bunny pillows. "Where's Mon-El?" She sat back against the frame, holding the pillows tightly to her chest.

"Talking over matters with Benicio LorMane."

Just the thought of business talk added to Kara's agitation. "I suppose these pillows can't stay here either." She grabbed a handful of cheese from the stand beside her bed and stuffed her mouth. Winn nodded. "I hate you all," she grumbled.

* * *

 

Lena sat next to her husband in a room full of guests for the evening meal, pondering things about him she had not pondered before. She had visited courtyards, six in total, to converse with other women. Four of the six included women spinning and weaving clothing as a pastime. It didn't matter if the women were of notability or of lower class, spinning and weaving clothing was something all of them understood. It was one of the primary activities among women, and it was calculated that eight miles of hand-spun thread was needed to make even a tunic.

As she watched Kieran, she knew she'd decided that she would not be a standard wife. She would not spend most of her days spinning and weaving clothing, or thinking about him. She thought about him now, but the thoughts were admittedly tempered by thoughts of his sister. When she looked at him, she could not find the face she desired, but the similarities were enough to make her wonder if Kieran could ever be an adequate substitute. She also had to look beyond the physical, assess if there was a heart there that was worth seizing.

She attempted to focus on his mannerisms. But his scent — the aroma she'd experienced outside mere candle marks ago — caught her attention. It brought her back to their time in the field and the way they'd tested each other's boundaries. She had anticipated her father scolding her for not attempting to make peace with her husband, but her father now sat across from her feasting as though he couldn't care less.

There were a few minstrels entertaining the guests. Everyone in the room was having a good time, including Mon-El and Winn. Everyone except for her and Kieran, she noticed. She found it peculiar that she could recognize her husband's mindset so well. She knew that no matter how many grins he flashed at his guests, he was restless. She could tell by the creases at his eyes and the way that he tapped his fingers on the table. Those long, slender fingers distracted Lena. And, without thinking, she looked up into his handsome but pretty face. Such an odd contrast of a face.

Kieran seemed to notice her eyes on him, and turned to her, causing her to blush deeper than expected and look away. "You know...if you keep staring at me like that, and blushing the way that you do, I'm going to start thinking that you like me," he teased.

Lena looked at him as though appalled, mouth agape. "You should do no such thing. I was not staring. I was not blushing. And I do not like you."

Kieran grinned, then turned back to the minstrels. "Understood."

Lena turned to find one of the minstrels starting a new story, and one of the fools juggling several different balls.

"But just so you know," Kieran added, "I no longer mind venturing outside the castle gates with you...moving about the town. I can even show you --"

"-- I prefer to explore alone," Lena cut him off, still focusing on the entertainment. She could feel her husband's blue eyes boring into her, and then nothing as those eyes focused elsewhere.

"I see," he said.

Displeasure. Lena detected displeasure in her husband's voice. Was he actually looking forward to spending time with her? The thought that he was, that she could affect him in such a way, excited her. She didn't expect that Kieran would ever care enough to be upset by her denying them time alone together. "Well, you see, I've always explored things on my own," she added, surprised by her need to ease his mind.

There was a pause, and then he replied, "Just inform me of anything you need, and I will try to oblige." He gestured for a servant standing by a wall with a small box in hand. The servant placed the box before her. "The morgengifu," Kieran said. "As you know, I should have given it to you this morning. It's enough coin to guarantee you some independence, and it will protect our children." 

Lena stared at the box and then at her blond companion. Where was this sudden change in demeanor coming from? Did it have to do with their time together in the town? "Thank you," she said, offering a small smile.

Kieran turned to her then. He smiled back, but barely, almost as though he was unsure of what smiling would imply at this point.

And again Lena was surprised, for the azure eyes that usually looked at her with annoyance or disdain were now looking at her with a sense of joy and mutual respect. Kieran was capable of joy, and that notion gave her more hope than she'd had since coming to Wessex. But when he reached out to touch her arm, she reflexively recoiled, and she saw the joy die in his eyes. She panicked, meaning to explain her reaction away, but it was too late.

Kieran returned his gaze to the entertainment, face cold.

Lena focused on the display as well.

Winn's voice pulled them both out of their musings. "Benicio LorMane wishes to speak with you, my lord," he said, rushing up to the table.

Kieran stood abruptly, looking about worriedly. "Already? I suppose it couldn't be helped. I take it everything is in order?"

Lena watched. She never thought she would witness this type of worry from Kieran Zor-El. But when she caught a glimpse of Benicio LorMane, she surmised that, if judging on looks alone, Kieran's worry was justified. The man was of Spanish descent, muscular in stature, and his golden attire seemed to highlight the hint of gold in his eyes. Eyes that Lena concluded were the most frightening pair of eyes she'd ever seen. The man's gaze left no room for argument; it commanded and expected to be obeyed. But while others cowered in LorMane's presence, Kieran did not. Whatever worry she had witnessed in him before was absent or rather well-concealed now.

Lionel, clearing his throat, hurried beside Kieran. "Lord Benicio, it is with great honor that I present my daughter, Lena," he said, grinning wide.

Lena was intrigued. She'd heard that Benicio LorMane was a great ally, but she had also heard that he was of lower rank. So for Kieran and her father to show such concern in his presence, she could only assume he was worth the effort. "It is an honor to meet you," she said, daring not to stand. She would give him his due respect and flatter him as necessary, but she would not treat him like a king. That effort, she reasoned, would likely be needed in the future for a person of even greater concern. They couldn't go about treating all allies as gods to be worshipped. "I've heard so much about your bravery and diplomacy."

LorMane smiled. "Lady Lena."

Kieran gave them no time to discuss further. "Please, this way." He escorted LorMane to the other guests, introducing them.

Winn and Lionel looked to Lena. "Pay no mind to the short introduction, Lady Lena. It is important that LorMane meet some of the other guests," Winn said, looking to Lionel for support.

"Yes, yes," Lionel replied, nodding adamantly.

Lena sighed. "Yes, yes." She stood and left the room without attempting to be polite about it.

* * *

 

Kara noticed Lena leaving. She turned back to LorMane, knowing she should be focusing on what he was saying about their plans for victory and so forth, but all she could think about was Lena. Their time outside the castle, how Lena had felt in her arms, their time at the dining room table moments ago, it all consumed her. And the wine was not helping to dull such thoughts.

"Your wife," LorMane's voice took her off guard. "She is quite the woman."

"So I've heard," Kara said with a smile, looking toward the hall where Lena had departed.

* * *

 

 

Lena's interest was piqued by mid-morning when she had not seen her father, husband, Mon-El or Winn since last night. She'd learned from Aisly that they were outside watching sparring battles, in a courtyard specifically tailored for it. "The training field," is what Aisly had called it. But what Lena saw before her was surely not training.

Her husband, spear in hand and dirtied from likely a number of sparring battles hours before, circled an opponent. Out of the two of them, he had fewer bruises and appeared to be the least exhausted.

At her left, Lena listened to her father and Winn note how impressive this was since it's the opponent's first fight of the day. Kieran should be the one in worse shape.

At her right, LorMane and Mon-El cheered Kieran on.

Many cheered him on, in fact. The area was arranged so that a seated audience, on row-like levels, surrounded the two men, giving them plenty of space. If they were any other men, Lena was certain she would not be as invested. But with Kieran down there, she couldn't help but be swayed by his hypnotic movements. His resolve.

He was mesmerizing.

* * *

 

 

Kara slid in the dirt, dodging her opponent's swipe of the spear. Never had she been so happy that her father had made certain that both she and Kieran were skilled in the art of weapon-to-weapon and hand-to-hand combat. She'd rather have not ended up here in the training field, but LorMane had insisted on seeing the skill of a number of the men and the tactical setups in place. Kara remembered that Kieran would often lead in cases like these, showing that he had an integral part in the men's training. She knew if she was going to be Kieran, she needed to do the same. She preferred to use a sword, but they were not easy to make and were quite expensive. So many of their men were not as familiar with them. It was something she vowed to change one day.

She dodged another launch of the spear, tripping her opponent. He was more bark than bite, huffing and puffing with no grace in his step. She wondered how he'd ever made it into the fighting ranks. If he was this bad, she could only imagine how many others were just as bad. To say she had her work cut out for her was an understatement. What type of training had Kieran been giving the poor stampcrabs?

"Get him, Kieran!" Mon-El's voice reached her. She looked up, expecting to pay him no mind, but saw Lena instead. Instantly, she was transfixed on that pale, ethereal face. Why did it express such interest? Was Lena that intrigued by the fight?

Kara felt a spear partially pierce her right shoulder. She let out a shriek and grimace, batting at the spear and going backward to the ground. The crowd collectively cooed in concern, and one of the guards rushed to stand in front of her and the opponent. "No" was all she could think. Never had Kieran ended up on the ground while sparring. And the one time she was supposed to shine as an experienced fighter like her brother, this had to happen.

Kara didn't even bother to hide her frustration, but she did manage to compose herself enough to finish out the fight by knocking her opponent out and quickly exiting the training field.

Lena moved from the seated area, intent on catching up to the departing figure. She heard several ask where she was going. She didn't answer. She still didn't like Kieran, that much she knew, but he had at least been trying with her lately. She found him in an intersecting outside hall. "Kieran!" she called out.

Kara stopped, taking in a deep breath before turning to her wife, a hand holding her wounded shoulder. "Lena," she said through gritted teeth.

Lena's eyes immediately went to Kara's wound. "Here, let me take a look at you." She moved to her swiftly.

"I have others to handle these things," Kara said.

"Those others are not your wife."

Kara stared at her. For a moment, she intended to protest, but settled for a smirk. They moved to a bench by a fountain and sat.

"What did you think you were doing?" Lena asked, gently pealing at the clothing around Kara's shoulder so that the bloodied skin was exposed.

"What do you think you are doing?" Kara replied.

Lena looked up and saw the smirk. Kara studied her, watching her suddenly look away shyly.

Lena ripped at her dress to construct a makeshift bandage. She dipped a spare piece into the water before gently applying it to Kara's wound, wiping away the blood with a grimace. "I've had enough practice patching people up," she said. "So maybe answer my question now?"

"Did it not look like I was sparring?"

"It looked like you weren't paying attention."

"And whose fault is that?"

Lena gawked at her. "Surely you aren't suggesting that I somehow caused you to --"

"-- I am."

Kara gently reached for Lena's face, lifting it toward her. "Do you even know how spectacular you..." She trailed off, her eyes holding Lena's before looking to the water.

Lena's cheeks took on a crimson shade as she lightly removed Kara's hand from her face, picking up the makeshift bandage. "Let's get you patched up? You will need the appropriate ointments, but for now..." She tried to make eye contact, but her husband steadily looked at the water, forlorn. "This tunic," she breathed softly, moving her hands to either side of Kara's waist to lift up the fabric, "let's get it off, and --"

"-- No!" Kara leapt to her feet, backing away from a much perturbed Lena. "Leave me be!" She began to walk away.

"Kieran!"

"Don't call me that," Kara said over her shoulder.

She'd said it softly, ever so softly, but Lena had heard it.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
